


The Mirror Crack'd

by mizjoelystartrekfics (mizjoelysotherfics)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: s02e10 Mirror Mirror, F/M, Mirror!verse shenanigans, bad guys doing bad things in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizjoelysotherfics/pseuds/mizjoelystartrekfics
Summary: What did the Mirror Universe Kirk & Co. get up to during their time on the USS Enterprise, and what happened after they returned home? Kirk & Uhuracentric, and something of an AU.
Relationships: Mirror James T. Kirk/Mirror Nyota Uhura
Kudos: 4





	1. A Matter of Biology

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ff.net in 2005.

"Lt. Moreau?"

Lt. Marlena Moreau looked up at the sound of that unexpected voice, to find a stranger standing in the doorway of the bio lab. No, not a stranger; it was Lt. Uhura, the Chief Communications Officer. It took her only a second to recognize the dark-skinned woman in the red uniform. "Can I help you?" Moreau was confused; the bridge crew rarely made an appearance in her territory, or so she'd been advised by her predecessor before his transfer. The attractive brunette had only been on board a short while, but couldn't think of a good reason for Uhura to be down here under the current peculiar circumstances.

Before she could finish the thought, however, Uhura slinked into the room. Moreau frowned, distracted; why had her mind chosen that particular verb to describe the way the other woman entered the lab? _Because it was the correct one,_ her mind insisted back to her. The woman moved like she expected people to pay attention when she made an entrance. "Is there something wrong, Lt. Uhura?" Moreau tried again. May as well let the other woman know she knew who she was.

Uhura shook her head, then extended her hand. "We haven't had the opportunity to meet. As the Chief Communications Officer, I consider it one of my duties-and pleasures-to greet newcomers. What with the Halkan situation and the ion storm, this is the first chance I've had."

Moreau took the proffered hand automatically, a tentative smile on her lips, but something about this meeting still felt...off. _Why are you being so suspicious, Marlena?_ she scolded herself silently while Uhura said something about the ship and making friends and landing parties. _Lt. Uhura is just trying to be nice._

Right. In the middle of a sensitive mission. Right after landing party duty that had ended...the way it had ended. Moreau was not convinced. "Yes," she said in belated response to Uhura's last inquiry. The woman had been talking while Moreau's suspicious mind wandered. "This is my first starship posting." She paused as something else Uhura had asked finally brought itself to her attention. "I'm sorry, but were you asking if I'd met the captain?"

Uhura nodded, a casual gesture, but Moreau couldn't help but feel a sudden tension, an eagerness the lieutenant was trying to hide, as if the question were more important than it seemed at face value. "No," she replied slowly, trying to puzzle things out. "I haven't reported to him in person yet. I've been trying to get things in order here, the ion storm really tossed things around. I thought Doctor McCoy had him temporarily off-duty? Something about a problem with the transporter?" That last was a blatant attempt to find out more than the speculation that had percolated through the ship.

Uhura nodded seriously, but Moreau would have sworn there was a hint of a self-satisfied smile around her lips as she replied, "Yes, Dr. McCoy thought he should rest. The ion storm affected the transporter, made us all a little...woozy." Her voice was dismissive, but the faint smile was still there. "None of us felt like ourselves when we beamed back from the planet."

"Does Dr. McCoy know why it affected the captain so strongly?" Moreau asked, in spite of herself. He had been the only one not immediately cleared for duty.

Uhura shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Dr. McCoy assured us he'd be back to his usual self in no time." There. That was definitely a smirk, as if the Lieutenant were enjoying a private joke. "I really shouldn't be down here, but I'm on a break and felt like taking a walk. When I found myself in your territory, I figured it was the perfect time to meet the newest member of the crew."

Plausible, all of it, but still ringing false to Moreau's ears. With the Captain in Sickbay, the mood on the ship was strained. Perhaps, she decided, that was what she was sensing. She squashed her doubts firmly and concentrated on the conversation at hand, determined not to let a temporary sense of jumpiness distort her reactions to what was most likely exactly what it was purported to be: a friendly overture from an old hand to the newest member of the crew. She also determined to ignore the feeling that Uhura wasn't so much wanting to meet her as to size her up. As competition? Another unworthy thought, but one that wouldn't allow itself to be completely banished from her mind.

"Would you like to have a look around?" she offered impulsively, trying to keep her tone civil when all her instincts were screaming at her to hustle the woman out of the room and back to the bridge. "Do you have time?" She hoped the answer would be no.

To Moreau's disappointment, Uhura nodded. "What a wonderful idea. I haven't spent much time down in this part of the ship." There, that was definitely a superior tone in the Lieutenant's voice, Moreau knew she wasn't imagining it. A hint of smugness, as if "this part of the ship" wasn't worthy of her time.

Moreau turned, taking a silent breath to steady herself. She would start the "tour" and then suddenly remember something urgent she needed to finish, get the other woman out of here, and give herself time to process her reactions. To see how much of what she was feeling was due to simple nerves because of her new posting, and how much was real. _Just get it over with, Marlena,_ she told herself, stepping toward the room's long, narrow table and its row of plant specimens. Uhura was behind her, too close; Moreau started to turn, finally trusting her instincts as she saw something in the other woman's hand. But before Moreau could fully identify and react to the threat, it was too late.

With a smile of pure, malicious triumph, Uhura stepped away from Moreau's unconscious form, sprawled haphazardly on the deck. She took the hypospray she had just used and dropped it down the nearest recycling chute. "Sweet dreams, Marlena," she cooed. "Too bad your little specimens emitted some spores that knocked you out. And too bad you won't ever remember anything that happened during the last 12 hours. But I don't need anyone standing in the way of what I want."

She walked out of the room, confident that no one had seen her enter, and equally confident that no one would see her leave. For some reason, this ship had only passive scanners monitoring the interior, and as Communications Officer it was child's play for her to route them away from this room, and equally simple for her to replace them with a judiciously edited set. If anyone wanted them. It would have been easier to just kill the woman, but the last thing Uhura wanted right now was a murder investigation. Moreau wouldn't be able to confirm or deny her actions during that time thanks to the toxin she'd been injected with, and Dr. McCoy would help Uhura cover up any suspicions of foul play once she explained the situation to him–-and promised him the one thing he'd been coveting during his tenure on the _Enterprise_.

Nurse Christine Chapel.


	2. Plotting in Wonderland

**Twenty-Four Hours Earlier - The I.S.S. _Enterprise_**

"I told you, Sulu, I'm not interested." Lt. Nyota Uhura, of the I.S.S. _Enterprise_ , toyed with the dagger she usually kept tucked into the top of one thigh-high boot. Whenever Sulu managed to get her alone-which happened with annoying frequency lately-she made a point of keeping the weapon at hand. She'd been on her way to her quarters when he appeared as if by coincidence and cornered her in this cul-de-sac; the knife had been in her hand before he got near enough to touch her. Not that it was much of a threat if he was of a mind to overpower her, but that wasn't what he wanted.

Or so he claimed. "I'm just suggesting you might want to rethink your position," Sulu said, a mocking smile on his face. He stroked his scarred cheek meaningfully. "Not that I mind a few battle scars, but I think you and I would be better off as allies." The smile turned cruel. "Besides, you know the captain's still interested in his current woman. You were never more than a one-night stand."

She almost slapped him, but held herself under rigid control. She should have known he'd find out about the night she spent in Kirk's quarters. "Things change," she said in an even voice. "I'm willing to take that gamble. But I'm _not_ willing to jump into an alliance against Captain Kirk." She paused, deciding in a split second to hedge her bets. "Not right now."

"Hey, who said anything about an alliance against Kirk?" Sulu asked, raising his hands in a "who, me?" gesture that was about as sincere as this entire conversation. "When I said allies, I wasn't talking mutiny." _Not yet_ , his entire attitude implied.

Uhura stared at him coldly. "This conversation is over, mister. If you back off then maybe, just maybe, I won't report it to the captain."

Sulu shrugged, but she wasn't fooled. He was furious, but keeping himself under control for once. "There isn't anything to mention, and you know where to find me when you decide you want me." He moved out of her way with exaggerated courtesy, sweeping his arms in an "after you" manner that she eyed with suspicion.

As Uhura slid past, he reached out and stroked her arm, snatching his hand back with a smirk as she whirled, dagger ready to slice off the offending fingers. Raising his arms in an mocking gesture of surrender, he backed away, then turned and swaggered in the opposite direction from which he'd originally claimed to be heading.

Uhura waited until he disappeared from sight, then waited some more until his bodyguards had also passed. They'd been lingering around the corner, out of sight but not out of earshot, ready to pounce if Sulu gave the word. As she'd expected. She frowned. If this kept up, she was going to have to invest in some bodyguards of her own, and soon. Sulu was powerful; he'd decided he wanted her but not by direct force. Coercion, however, was a different story, and she had no doubt the threats would become more overt. She'd done nothing but delay the inevitable.

She shrugged, a half-smile playing across her lips as she strutted down the hall, then entered the code that would allow her access to her quarters. She made sure the door was securely locked as she slipped out of her uniform, tossing the short skirt and halter top across her bed. Bending over to remove her boots, she stopped as she caught her reflection in the floor-length mirror she'd had installed the last time they'd visited Starbase 23. It had been expensive, but, she decided as she admired her firm body, well worth it.

"Magnificent," she gloated, turning this way and that, making a mental note that the effect of full nudity except for her boots and jewelry was quite striking. "No wonder Sulu wants you, Nyota," she murmured as she ran her hands down her body and struck various seductive poses. "But I've got bigger fish to fry, as Momma used to say. Kirk won't keep Moreau forever, and I'll make sure he remembers our night together once she's out of the way."

She certainly remembered. It had been the layover at Starbase 23, a little over a month ago. Moreau had been off the ship, away at some stupid bio lecture or something. Kirk had been restlessly roaming the corridors, a bottle of Saurian brandy in one hand, a new throwing knife in the other. Uhura made sure she was just leaving her quarters when he came by. She'd leaned seductively against the wall, engaging him in conversation with just the right amount of suggestion and innuendo, teased a swig of the brandy out of him, while making it quite clear she was available if he wanted.

He had, indeed, wanted. Moreau was away, had abandoned him to his own devices, so why not? Uhura had outdone herself that night. Kirk had been admiring, but she knew it wouldn't go further, not while he was keeping Moreau in his cabin. Although the idea certainly didn't stop him from bringing Uhura there for the night.

She didn't make any demands on him, letting him be surprised and relieved that she didn't immediately ask for a promotion, or a bigger share of the ship's profits, or for him to get rid of an inconvenient suitor. She'd never made any demands afterwards, either, and caught him looking at her speculatively on more than one occasion during the past thirty days. As if trying to figure her out. She enjoyed the feeling of power she held just by not asking him for anything; it intrigued him, which was exactly what she wanted. A man who was intrigued was likely to come back. She was perfectly happy to bide her time. Moreau wouldn't last, she wasn't even talented enough to get onto the command track, she was stuck in Science and probably would be the rest of her career unless Kirk promoted her before he sent her on her way. Which he would, some day. And Uhura would be there. Waiting.

This upcoming away mission was another opportunity to gain Kirk's attention. She'd made sure she was included in the landing party, along with Scott and McCoy. The Captain's Yeoman usually acted as the seductress when the Captain personally entered into negotiations, but Janice Rand had met with an unfortunate accident a week ago, and a replacement hadn't been immediately required due to Moreau's presence in Kirk's personal life. So Uhura had casually volunteered to be the one to keep the Halkan representative off-balance, to distract him when Kirk made his demands. It was a role she reveled in, as she reveled in the opportunity to once again remind Kirk of exactly what he was missing...

**The Present**

Of course, Uhura mused as she slipped back into her seat on the bridge of this strange, other-universe _Enterprise_ , things hadn't quite worked out the way she planned. The ion storm, the strange behavior of the transporter, then the disorienting landing in strange clothes with a clean-shaven, bodyguard-less Spock confronting them had staggered them all, but for once McCoy had grasped the situation before anyone else and hustled them all off to Sickbay. Which was where Scott had figured out that somehow the storm and the transporters had conspired to land them in an alternate dimension, where the Empire was a Federation with member worlds and allies instead of slave colonies and conquered enemies. This strange, soft universe was a challenge, but Uhura was confident they could keep their true identities secret long enough for Scott to figure out how to get them back where they belonged. Or, barring that, until Kirk could figure out a way to turn this side-trip to their advantage.

_These fools use their ship for peaceful scientific exploration_ , she thought scornfully, struggling to keep her true emotions out of her expression. _Not as the warship it was meant to be._ How difficult could it be to trick them for a few days? Scott was supposed to be a genius; he would find a way to get them home.

Yes, they'd landed in the wrong universe, but she could already see the advantages. Kirk had reluctantly agreed with McCoy that he should keep away from Spock until he had time to figure things out, and had even more reluctantly agreed to be "sick" until he decided how to handle the situation. Everyone else he'd ordered to emulate this ship's crew, to keep a low profile until he came up with a plan. Which, he'd assured them, he would.

However, there were limits. He needed to keep his appetites under check, but self-denial was never his strong suit. She doubted he'd make it through the night without needing a bottle of something...and someone to warm his bed. No doubt he would instinctively, thoughtlessly go after Moreau, and this version wasn't one to let Kirk paw her without reporting it to Spock. Which would give them all away.

Spock was another advantage, no matter how suspicious he seemed of them. If she played her cards right, she could use him in her scheme to get what she wanted, and not just for the duration of their time in this alternate universe. It had been an additional shock when they'd first entered Sickbay to see Nurse Chapel there, waiting for them. McCoy had gotten rid of her with some excuse-but not before Uhura saw the hungry look he gave the blonde. In their universe, Spock had safely stashed Chapel away once it was confirmed that their _Pon Farr_ mating had resulted in a child. McCoy had always resented the First Officer for that, and for the fact that Chapel had rejected the doctor over the Vulcan in the first place. Chapel's presence had truly convinced Uhura that they'd somehow switched places with their other-universe twins, and given her the first inkling of a plan that she was now ready to put into motion. Just as soon as her shift was over...

Time had never seemed to move so slowly. Thank whatever gods existed in this universe that the technology was so close as to be virtually identical, even though their mission here seemed to be that of beggars pleading with a weaker antagonist. Disgusting. Kirk's orders back home were no doubt to destroy the population centers, force the Halkans into slave camps, and make them mine the dilithium for the _Enterprise_ crew and the Empire. All the firepower this ship contained, all the strength of the Federation and Starfleet behind them, and this universe's Kirk was only authorized to negotiate with mere words, pleading with the Halkan weaklings for the right to mine. Just the thought of it made her sick.

Uhura dismissed such concerns from her mind with little difficulty. Right now the Halkans were Spock's problem. He was authorized to negotiate-negotiate!-in Kirk's absence, and Uhura could care less how he handled the situation. As long as they remained in orbit until the four of them could return home. Her shift would be over in an hour, and she would find it easy enough to head to Sickbay. Lt. Marlena Moreau had been found unconscious in the bio lab and brought to Dr. McCoy for treatment. Uhura had sent a surreptitious message to him, asking him to stall until she could meet with him. He'd agreed, and soon she could finally put her plan into motion.


	3. Scottish Games

Uhura strolled into Sickbay with a casual glance around. It appeared to be deserted, except for the still-unconscious form of Marlena Moreau. "Dr. McCoy?"

He appeared in the door to his office. "Uhura," he acknowledged coldly. He held a mug in one hand, and she didn't have to smell it to know it contained alcohol of one kind or another. The doctor was rarely without a bottle at his side, even on duty. Another weakness she could exploit. "We're alone except for the patient you sent me earlier. Would you mind telling me why?"

Uhura glanced down at the woman she considered her rival, no matter which universe they inhabited. "You know the captain. He'd go after her, give us all away by trying to force her to act like someone she's not. So I took matters into my own hands. For our protection."

McCoy scowled. "How do you know she wouldn't welcome his attention? How do you know they're not already-" He made a vulgar gesture with his hands.

"Because I asked her, and she said they hadn't met," Uhura snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, these people are disgustingly honest. Besides, I checked her out. She just transferred here a week ago. Fraternizing isn't exactly encouraged in this universe's Starfleet. Especially not between the captain and members of his crew." She'd spent her idle time on the bridge surreptitiously researching what she could, and the lunch she'd arranged to share with Christine Chapel had given her additional insight into how things worked here.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "What a pity," he murmured, taking a moody swig of his drink.

Uhura moved closer, reaching for the mug. He let her to take it, watched in undisguised amusement as she took a dainty sip before handing it back, brushing her fingers against his. "I said it wasn't encouraged, I didn't say it didn't take place." She looked directly into his eyes, wetting her lips with anticipation. This was it. If McCoy agreed to help her, she was home free. "How would you like to do a little fraternizing with this universe's Christine Chapel?"

McCoy stiffened, then stared at her suspiciously. "What do you mean? How? If I lay a finger on her she'll scream bloody murder. What I told the captain holds true for all of us; we need to figure out a way home before we get found out. Even these fools could hurt us, or worse, ruin our chances of getting back where we belong." But he was intrigued; she saw it in his eyes and so continued to press him.

"Chapel's in love with Spock here, too, but he doesn't even give her a second look," Uhura said, ignoring McCoy's fretful complaints. "Apparently she and my counterpart are friends." She grimaced in distaste. "We ate a meal together, and she kept going on about how worried they were about us when the transporters were acting up and how she hoped the captain would recover soon. I let her babble, then I got her to open up about Spock. It seems 'we've' discussed her feelings for him before, so I let her go on and on, she was really in a 'poor me' mood. The gist of it is that she wants him, but he isn't interested."

"So?" McCoy sneered. "He wasn't particularly interested in our Chapel until _Pon Farr_ hit him too far away for that pretty little Vulcan wife of his to be of any use."

Uhura nodded. "True. But it's different here. And I have a plan that takes advantage of those differences." She tapped him on the chest with her forefinger. "I'll get her for you, all tied up with a pretty bow."

"How?" McCoy demanded. He hadn't turned her down, which meant he was interested. Good.

Uhura smiled and ran her finger along the collar of his shirt. "I'm going to help the captain keep his appetites in check while Marlena is indisposed-and you're going to make sure she stays indisposed until we get back where we belong."

"Again, how does Christine fit into this?" He was more interested in how she intended to pay him for services rendered than in the details of her plan, all to the good as far as Uhura was concerned.

"I'm going to make her think I spent the night with Spock. You are going to step in to comfort her, along with something to help her drown her sorrows." She tapped the rim of the mug meaningfully. "Give her enough to make her think she drank more than she really did, then slip something into her glass to make her do what you want. Be a shoulder for her to cry on, get her to your quarters-do I have to spell out the rest for you?"

McCoy shook his head, a grin plastered across his face that did not bode well for Christine Chapel. "It could work. But there's something else you want, just keeping Moreau unavailable for the Captain is to everyone's advantage, not just yours," he pointed out. "So what do you _really_ want from me?"

"I want you to remove my contraceptive implant, and I want you to do it in such a way that we can blame the ion storm and the transporter glitch. After all, it landed us in a different universe, in our own bodies wearing our counterparts' clothing." It was plausible, she knew it was, just as she knew that McCoy could pull it off. If he were properly motivated. "If it can do all that, pull us right out of our uniforms and into someone else's, then a little thing like a contraceptive implant wouldn't stand a chance." The beauty of the scheme was obvious; since the men didn't have to wear the implants, she was the only one who would have been affected.

McCoy shook his head. "You're playing with fire, Uhura, you know that. Kirk isn't a fool, and he hasn't risen this far this fast because he allows himself to be played. You get him into bed just as your implant is gone? We all know what happens when they're removed..."

"If you do your part, he won't know," Uhura countered, impatient with the doctor's pessimism. The way the implants worked was part of her plan, another obvious fact. They served a dual purpose: emitting an electronic field that acted as a spermicide, and putting the ovaries into metabolic stasis. Six hours after they were removed, the body returned to a fertile state. The only reason they were ever removed was for just that purpose: procreation. It was what their Christine Chapel had done when she realized Spock was going into the Vulcan rut cycle. "Mention the possibility to him, act worried, tell him you didn't realize it until you analyzed my medical scans-but not until after it's too late." Her voice turned wheedling. "You convinced him Moreau's illness was an accident, didn't you?"

McCoy looked doubtful. "Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you'll find out tonight. Won't you."

Uhura smirked triumphantly. "You bet I will. How long will it take you to remove the implant?"

**oOo**

Uhura's next stop was Engineering. If she wanted this to work, Scott would have to back up McCoy's "speculation" about the disappearance of her contraceptive implant. He would be harder for her to manipulate; the dour Scotsman had never made any of his weaknesses obvious, at least not to Uhura. This was the first time they'd been thrown together on a mission, and his time on the bridge was spent grudgingly at best. He'd never responded to any flirtation on Uhura's part, but she'd never tried very hard, either, had spent most of her time and energy fending off Sulu and focusing on Kirk. Spock she avoided warily, and Scott as third in command hadn't merited more than passing attention. Now, she regretted that lack; she hated going into a possible alliance knowing so little about her potential ally.

She glanced around, spotting him almost immediately. Without bothering to explain herself, she walked over and waited for him to notice her. He was busy, doing something or other with a hand-held welder or saw or some other boring tool she couldn't immediately identify. She received a few curious looks, but this crew appeared to be well trained in the art of minding their own business. Who knew, maybe her counterpart was in the habit of dropping in on Engineering in her spare time.

Scott finally looked up, clicking off the tool with a snap and dropping it on the nearest counter. "Aye?"

"Do you have a minute?" Uhura asked, not bothering to lower her voice. "I'm having a problem with some hardware changes I want to try out on the communications equipment. I could use your expertise. Are you off duty yet?"

"I'm never off duty, ye know that by now," Scott growled, but he followed when she turned and headed for the door. "But I think I can spare a few minutes. What's the problem?"

Describing the "problem" took them out of the hearing of the Engineering staff. Once in the corridor, she fell silent, trusting to Scott to find a quiet place for them to talk. He might not be someone she knew very well, but all members of theI.S.S. _Enterprise_ crew were well versed in covert meetings, and could recognize a request for one when they heard it.

Scott herded her into an empty conference room, a small one, taking care to lock the door behind them. "Well? What is it?" he snapped. "Ye know I'm tryin' to get us home, so I haven't got time for any of yer little games. Spill it."

"I'm working on keeping the captain happy until you do get us home," she said bluntly, not bothering with flattery or flirtation. It was obvious neither would be effective. Not now, anyway. "I just need you to do one thing for me."

"And in return, I'll get what, exactly?" Scott demanded. He stood near the door, arms crossed, but he wasn't dismissing her request out of hand. Uhura was encouraged.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll do my best to get it for you." She took a deep breath. This was it; she had to lay her cards on the table in order to get him to cooperate. If he chose not to, if he decided to tell Kirk instead, then all her carefully laid plans would go for naught. "Look, we all want to get ahead. I think the best way for me to do that is to have something the captain wants." She moved closer as she spoke, but not close enough for him to view her as a threat.

Scott looked her up and down impassively. "Lass, I've no doubt ye've got somethin' he wants."

Uhura was disconcerted by his frank appraisal, accompanied as it was by a dead-pan delivery she wasn't sure how to read. "I mean something to bind us together in the long run, not just until we get back home. My contraceptive implant was destroyed somehow, during the transfer-"

"The hell it was!" Scott exploded. He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. Literally, as if she were a small child being reprimanded. "What kind of a fool are ye? As soon as the implant was removed ye became fertile, we all know how they work! He'll know ye planned this–"

"Not if you and McCoy back me up," she insisted, staring up at him, ignoring his painful grip on her arms. "He can say it's gone and he doesn't know how, and if Kirk asks, you can tell him you think it's something to do with the transfer. Just like our clothes were switched," she added. He'd stopped shaking her, but hadn't removed his hands from her arms. "You can convince him it has something to do with non-organic material not making the transfer across the two universes. You can speculate that my counterpart is now wearing my implant along with my uniform. He'll believe you; he knows you and I aren't allies and never have been."

Scott finally let her go, stepping back. Uhura rubbed her arms absently, never wavering in her gaze. "Ye still haven't told me what I get out of this," he finally said, and Uhura kept the smile of triumph from reaching her lips. "Ye get a hold on Kirk, I presume McCoy gets something he wants-or someone," he added, eyes narrowing. "That would be enough for him, a night with a woman who turned him down back home and no chance of setting Spock after him. What's in it for me?"

"Name it, and I'll see you get it. You'll get my full cooperation in any scheme you like, as long as it doesn't endanger my own plans or go against the Captain. What do you want?" she asked him again.

Scott stared at her for a long moment, then smiled. "I don't rightly know, lass. But when I do, I'll come to ye, here or back home. And if ye go back on yer word, I promise ye'll live to regret it."

"Fair enough," Uhura agreed, licking lips suddenly gone dry. She'd hoped he wanted something more specific, but the promise of future alliance was something she'd anticipated having to make. "Shall we seal the deal?" She held out her hand. He took it, then pulled her close for an unexpected kiss. She yielded without hesitation, returning the kiss in full measure-and with more enjoyment than she'd expected. Now that she knew Engineer Scott was susceptible to her charms, her confidence grew. This would work, and if Scott demanded more from her in the future than she could deliver, well, she'd worry about that later. Accidents could always be arranged.


	4. Playing With Fire

Kirk reentered his quarters, stopping short at the sight of Lt. Uhura sprawled comfortably across his bed. She sat up as the door closed behind him, stretching slightly within in the loose confines of her silvery robe. "I was afraid you weren't coming back after all." Might as well take the bull by the horns; sometimes he admired confident women.

Kirk frowned, then stepped into the room and slammed his hand against the privacy lock, not once removing his gaze from her. He deliberately uncorked the bottle of Saurian brandy he'd been carrying, took a healthy swig, then set it just as deliberately onto the table. "I went to Sickbay to get something to drink," he said. Uhura was encouraged; he didn't usually deign to explain himself. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled and stood, allowing the robe to fall from her shoulders. It slid to the floor in a shimmering puddle as she took a single step toward him, then stopped. "Dr. McCoy says Marlena Moreau is ill. She's in Sickbay. Something about the toxins from one of her plants being released. So I figured you might need some...company...this evening."

"Company," Kirk repeated. He reached out and lifted her chin in his hand, looking her over critically. Uhura waited a beat, then turned her head and deliberately nipped at his thumb. His grip tightened, and before she could react further he moved with lightning speed to pin her against the wall, his hand tightening on her throat as she started to choke. "You put Marlena in Sickbay, don't lie to me."

"She's not your Woman here," Uhura managed to gasp out. "If you went to her, you'd give us away."

Kirk stared at her, the fury in his eyes giving way to a gleam of calculation as his hold eased. Uhura gasped for breath as he shoved her away from him. "And what do you think this soft Federation crew could do to us?" he asked contemptuously.

"Never allow the enemy an advantage," Uhura shot back with the most famous quote in the Empire. Surak, the father of Vulcan logic, had said that. Logic gave Vulcans the strength to master their violent, passionate natures, and that made them even more deadly than the Klingons. Because of this iron control, a Vulcan was a ruthless foe, and an invaluable ally. Once they understood their place in the hierarchy, of course.

Kirk smiled at that, and Uhura relaxed a fraction. "You're saying that we should continue to pretend to be the lambs that this crew expects, and not the wolves we really are."

"Scott and McCoy agree," Uhura reminded him. "You yourself told them to do what they can to get us back where we belong. If our counterparts haven't already fouled things up," she added with a frown.

"We'll worry about them when we get home," Kirk growled. "You know I'd already decided we need to just play along until Scott can work out the way to get us home." He conveniently neglected to give McCoy credit for the idea, and Uhura wasn't about to bring it up. He reached out for her with a cruel smile. She flinched, then submitted to his touch. He pulled her close for a passionate kiss, then without warning threw up his arm and backhanded her. With a cry, she stumbled back, half-falling against the bed. Kirk was on her like lightning, his weight pinning her down as he yanked her head back by the hair and forced her to look at him. "But don't you ever go behind my back like that again, you understand me? Never touch Marlena again, or you will pay. I don't care what universe we're in."

He waited for her choked promise, then pulled her up for another brutal kiss. Uhura endured it, waiting for his passion to overcome his anger, biding her time. Patience was a trait she'd cultivated, and this time she was determined to get everything she wanted. Kirk was her ticket to the good life, and she'd be damned if she'd let anyone-or anything-get in the way.

As soon as she felt his kisses become more of a demand and less of a punishment, she squirmed beneath him in a manner designed to emphasize the fact that she was a woman and he was a man, and hid a triumphant smile as he groaned and impatiently fumbled with his uniform. She reached with eager hands to help him, her last coherent thought that she was going to get everything she ever wanted, and no one was going to stand in her way.

**oOo**

Uhura allowed herself a contented smile as Kirk rolled off her and collapsed onto the narrow bunk. She decided to go for dignity, rather than waiting for him to throw her out, which she expected to be the outcome of this night. She left the covering on the bed, allowing him a lingering look at her body as she scooped up her robe and reached for the bottle. A momentary hesitation, then she turned back. To see if he was looking at her.

He was, and at the bottle, nodding permission as she raised it in a silent question. She took a long swig, then handed it to him. He drank, but held onto the bottle, showing no sign of returning it to either her or the table. "I guess I'd better go now." Her tone made it a question.

Kirk shook his head and reached for her with his free hand. "No," he said with a growl as he pulled her back into bed. Her robe tumbled unheeded to the floor. "But don't be here when I wake up."

"And if we're still here tomorrow night?" Uhura murmured as he nuzzled her neck. It was a calculated risk, but she suspected she already knew the answer.

"Be waiting for me when I get off duty," Kirk said, an impatient edge to his voice. He shoved her back onto the bed and raised himself over her. "Enough talk."

He was ready again, Uhura could see it, and licked her lips in anticipation. She'd never been satisfied by any man the way Kirk satisfied her, and she'd been stunned both the last time and now to find that she didn't need to fake any of her responses. Kirk was a selfish bastard most of the time, but he managed to give as good as he got when it came to sex.

And she was determined that he realize the same about her.

**oOo**

Kirk rolled over as his comm chimed discreetly, preprogrammed to wake him for his counterpart's duty shift. He ignored it. Uhura was gone, just as he'd demanded, but traces of her perfume lingered, and he sniffed appreciatively as he took a bracing swallow of the last of the brandy. Just a little pick-me-up to get the morning off to a good start.

Uhura wanted something, more than just keeping him from getting restless and chasing after some other woman on this ship. This was the second time she'd made herself available to him without making any demands in return for her services. He wondered what it was she wanted, then shrugged it off. He'd find out soon enough. If she caught him in the right mood, he might even give it to her.

**oOo**

Timing, Uhura mused, was everything. She made sure to time her appearance in Sickbay with the start of Chapel's duty shift, and made damn sure the blonde heard enough of her "private" conversation with Dr. McCoy that the other woman remained, frozen with shock, just outside the door to the doctor's office. The two of them ignored her, playing out their charade as if they had no idea Chapel was hovering just out of sight, taking in every word.

"I just never realized how powerful Vulcans are," had been the tantalizing line Uhura had opened with. She hoped her voice held just the right mix of embarrassment and lingering wonder. She silently thanked Kirk for leaving her a visible reminder of their night together that she could now use to her advantage.

"I didn't realize you two were involved," McCoy commented, right on cue. "I didn't know Spock had it in him. That's a nasty bruise, Lieutenant." He applied a hypospray to the side of her neck.

"It wasn't something either of us planned," Uhura replied, straining to hear any sounds from outside McCoy's office. Was that a harsh intake of breath, quickly stifled? She hid a smirk as she continued, "It just...happened. I don't know what I'm going to say to Christine. She's my friend, and I feel as if I've betrayed her."

"It's an unfortunate situation," McCoy agreed gravely. "I won't say anything, but eventually you're going to have to. Because she is your friend, and even if Spock never let her get as close to him as you did, her feelings are still involved." There, that was definitely the sound of a stifled sob, the shuffle of feet moving clumsily away. The charade had worked. Uhura smiled at McCoy, then hastily stood and moved toward the door.

"Christine!" The other woman stiffened, then turned reluctantly to see what appeared to be a mortified Nyota Uhura and Leonard McCoy confronting her from the door of his office. "I didn't know you were here!" They exchanged guilty looks.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I was just going to ask Dr. McCoy for something..." her voice trailed off. "I have to-to go, just for a little while, Doctor..." Without waiting for permission, she rushed out the door.

Uhura smiled and turned to McCoy. "There you go. Bow and all."

McCoy grinned. "I think the little lady could use a real friend right about now. One that has no intentions of sleeping with her would-be boyfriend. I'll catch you later." He hurried after Chapel, leaving a triumphant Uhura to herself.


	5. Out Played

Uhura stepped off the turbolift at the end of her second, boring shift in this universe, eagerly looking forward to another night with Kirk. Without warning, two security guards fell into step next to her. "Lt. Uhura, please come with us."

She looked at them questioningly. "Where to, boys?" Her voice was full of speculation...and promise. One of the men swallowed nervously. She chose that moment to push him into his crewmate, sprinting down the corridor toward the nearest weapon locker. Not enough time, not enough momentum; she heard their feet pounding behind her.

Uhura fought the hands that grasped her. "What's the meaning of this?" She kicked out at the security guard on her left, but he deftly avoided her booted foot. Useless, the boots the women wore in this universe. Useless for either seduction or as weapons. If she were wearing her own heels, the guard would be down with a fractured kneecap by now.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the other guard said, "but Mr. Spock's orders are to bring you to the Brig."

The Brig! Spock must know...somehow, he'd found out, they'd given themselves away, but how? Uhura's mind raced as she was half-pulled along by her captors, struggling furiously in their unforgiving grips. There was no other explanation, not in this backwards universe; no chance this was a power play by Spock against Kirk and those known to be his allies. Unless she'd underestimated them, which she doubted.

As they hurried down the corridor, Uhura saw a furious McCoy struggling with guards of his own as he was half-dragged out of Christine Chapel's quarters. A glimpse inside showed her unconscious, half-naked form being tended by one of the other medics. She couldn't see any more as McCoy and his guards cleared the doorway, but judging by the doctor's own fully clothed state, nothing much had happened before Spock set his dogs on them. She had no doubt they wouldn't have hesitated to drag him out of there stark naked had that been the way they found him. Not by the grim, unsmiling faces they presented. Same as her own guards, she noted as she allowed herself to be hustled to the turbolift.

She resigned herself to captivity. Struggling further wasn't going to get her anywhere except stunned; Kirk was unconscious when they joined him in the turbolift, Scotty sullen, McCoy finally calming once he saw they were all caught.

**oOo**

"Spock! What do you want, money? Power?"

The Vulcan turned away, apparently ignoring Kirk's attempts at bribery. _This universe really is screwed up_ , Uhura thought. "Fascinating," she thought she heard Spock murmur as he headed out of the Brig. The four of them subsided as the doors slid shut behind him.

Once Spock was gone, Kirk rounded on Uhura. "McCoy told me _you_ convinced him to keep Moreau in Sickbay," he growled, grabbing her by the arm and thrusting her back against the far wall of the cell Spock had thrown them all into only moments before. "He admitted that he lied to help you get to me."

Uhura didn't bother pointing out that she'd already admitted putting Moreau in Sickbay. "Yes, I saw a way to use this to my advantage, so what?" She was defiant, even in the brig, even backed against the wall by Kirk. She gave him glare for glare, ignoring the threatening posture, the anger on his face. She knew why he was taking his anger out on her; Spock's reaction to Kirk's threats, his blustering, and finally, his bribery. The Vulcan remained impassive in the face of all three. He was out of reach, but Uhura was here. At least McCoy hadn't given everything away... "You tried to use this 'accident' to your advantage, too. And it's not like I'm the only one, here or back home."

"What do you mean?" Kirk demanded, diverted by her unexpected defiance.

Uhura straightened, sensing an advantage. "Do you think your duplicate's stayed out of your quarters while we've been here? Do you think Marlena Moreau hasn't shared her body with him, shown him all your secrets?"

It was a shot in the dark, but Uhura could tell by the sudden stiffening of Kirk's spine that she'd struck a nerve. "I never did anything to hurt you." Uhura lowered her voice to a confidential murmur as she sought to press her sudden advantage. "I was just trying to get ahead, same as everyone else. I wasn't planning to betray you. I just wanted to be with you. I still do." She waited, to see if her words had any effect.

Kirk's eyes were narrowed in concentration, and he removed his iron grip from her wrist almost as an afterthought. "For all we know, the real Spock threw the intruders into the brig the moment they set foot on the ship," he murmured, indecisive for the first time.

"We fooled these idiots for over twenty-four hours," Uhura argued. "Who's to say what's been happening while we've been trapped here? If their Kirk is as good an actor as you, they might have pulled it off." A little judicious flattery never hurt. "If Marlena had been his woman here, you wouldn't have hesitated to sleep with her. If he's anything like you under that soft Federation exterior, he'd have been cunning enough to do the same in our universe. To worm any secrets you two shared out of her." Another shot in the dark, another hit. Kirk's frown deepened, to Uhura's private joy. If Kirk was hesitating, then there really were secrets to be found out.

And if she had anything to say about it, she'd be in possession of those secrets and Marlena Moreau would be nothing but a memory.

"Captain, did ye sleep with her?"

The interruption came from Scott. Uhura stiffened but didn't turn to face him; she didn't dare take her attention away from Kirk. Not now.

But he was distracted by the unexpected question; eyes narrowed distrustfully, he glared over Uhura's shoulder at the engineer. "Who, Uhura? Why? What business is it of yours?"

"None," Scott replied with an indifferent shrug. "But ye should know, there's a chance her implant went the way of her uniform, if ye know what I mean."

He had everyone's attention now; Uhura's head snapped around and she stared at him, furious for bringing up the subject now, of all times. How dare he-? But as she stared at him, her anger cooled. Why not now? At least he was sticking to her version of things, not giving her intentions away.

Where her anger melted, however, Kirk's was stoked to a raging boil. "What do you mean?" he growled, stalking toward Scott, dragging Uhura along almost as an afterthought. He whirled to face McCoy. "Is that true? What do you know about it?"

McCoy backed up a step, arms raised defensively. "Nothing, I swear! It wasn't something I thought to check for!" He shot a sullen look at Scott, ignoring Uhura completely. All to the good, as far as she was concerned. She was just grateful he hadn't caved in and told the captain about her scheming. Which only meant he wanted a hold over her, since he hadn't gotten very far with Chapel. Fine, as long as her own plans weren't completely ruined...

All discussion was cut short by the unexpected return of Spock, accompanied by a pair of additional security guards and a shaken looking Nurse Chapel. She held a medical tricorder and some other equipment Uhura didn't recognize, but she knew an interrogation when she was about to be subjected to one. "No truth drugs for me, I'm pregnant," she spat out, backing up behind Kirk, confident he would protect her. Well, not so much her as his child. There was a slight chance she wasn't actually pregnant, but the odds were well in her favor.

Spock merely cocked an eyebrow, but Chapel paled, and her hand shook slightly as she fumbled open the medical pouch and removed a scanner. "We don't use truth drugs," she said, her voice much steadier than her hands. "But I can't confirm your condition through the forcefield. Step to the front, please." As Uhura hesitated, she added: "You won't be harmed. I give my word." She glanced at Spock, who nodded slightly and gestured the security guards back a step.

Uhura looked at them mistrustingly; hadn't she just made this woman believe she'd slept with her would-be lover? In her own universe, she knew she'd be in for some pretty significant revenge. But, she reminded herself, this wasn't her own universe. She stepped forward confidently, nodding as Kirk muttered a quick question. _Are you sure you can trust the bitch?_ To do as she said? Absolutely.

The forcefield dropped; as expected, the security guards focused their weapons on the men as Uhura walked up to Chapel. The forcefield was raised again behind her, and she spared a second to smirk over her shoulder at her trapped crewmates. Then her attention returned to the enemies in front of her. Ironically, her instincts told her she could trust them more than the men behind her. Even Kirk. No, especially Kirk. "Well? Am I lying?"

Her tone was insolent, and she knew it, but there was no point in trying to be other than herself now. It was a relief, really, to know that she could stop pretending to be someone she wasn't. Not that a little deception wasn't useful now and then, but to be constantly "on" was wearying.

Chapel ignored her, concentrating on her scans. She looked up at Spock and nodded. "The scans also confirm she's not from our universe, sir. Her quantum signature is significantly different, although she's identical to our Uhura in every other way. Physically," she qualified with a disapproving tightening of her lips.

"Don't worry, sugar, it's not Spock's," Uhura cooed.

Chapel's hand shot out; Uhura waited for the blow to land, but Spock was faster. He grasped Chapel's wrist, lowered her hand, then nodded at the guards. "Return her to the holding cell." Uhura turned her back on them contemptuously as she sauntered back into the cell, stopping only when she reached Kirk's side.

"You got him in our universe, you know," she said, smiling at the furious flush that reddened the other woman's otherwise pale features. "He's got you tucked away on Vulcan, raising his son, living under his mother's roof to protect you from his wife."

"So now you know how the other half lives," McCoy drawled. Twisting the knife further.

"That will be enough." Spock's voice was mild, but Uhura heard the unspoken threat and unwillingly subsided. This Chapel was such an easy target... "Miss Chapel, it is my opinion you are not as recovered from your ordeal as you claimed." Her chin came up defiantly, but she didn't say anything as Spock continued. "You have confirmed my suspicions regarding our 'guests.' You are dismissed."

Chapel continued to keep her gaze locked on his face for a beat, then turned abruptly away. "Yes, sir," she said through clenched teeth. She walked out, stiff-legged, shooting one furious glare over her shoulder before the doors hissed shut behind her.

Spock returned his attention to the captives. "In order for us to return you to your proper place and presumably retrieve our own crewmembers, we need to ascertain the exact conditions that brought you here in the first place. Mr. Scott."

"Aye?" Scott's voice was as insolent as Uhura's had been.

"I would like to you to tell me what you have determined, in order to corroborate my own theories."

"Figure it out yerself," Scott sneered, crossing his arms stubbornly and turning away.

Another one of those damned raised eyebrows. They were just as annoying here as back home, Uhura decided. "If you are requesting a mind meld, that is certainly a possibility."

Scott blanched at the threat, and Uhura moved uneasily away from him. Closer to Kirk. Who actually put a protective arm around her. They'd all witnessed forced melds on more than one occasion. Spock was a master at ripping through an unwilling mind to find exactly what he needed. Whether or not the person survived the interrogation was purely a matter of whether Spock-or Kirk-wanted them to.

"It is to your own advantage to share this information with me," Spock continued calmly. If he noted their reactions, there was no way to tell from either his expression or his voice.

"How do we know you won't just use it to get your own crew back and leave us stranded?" Kirk burst out.

"Because if my theory is correct, we cannot retrieve our crew without returning you. The First Law of Thermodynamics would seem to dictate that."

"The total quantity of energy in the universe remains constant," Scott agreed, grudgingly to Uhura's ears. "The principle of the conservation of energy. Ye're right. Ye have to send us back t'our universe in order to get them back here."

"Logically, it would be in both our interests to cooperate."

"No."

Everyone turned to stare at Kirk. "No deal," he said. "Not unless there's something in it for us. We won't cooperate unless we get something out of it."

"Something other than a return to your native universe?" This time the eyebrow stayed put. Uhura saw it as an ominous sign. "I do not understand."

"You want them back, but who's to say we want to leave?" Kirk was belligerent. "Maybe we'd rather stay here. Sure," he added, nodding at his incredulous crew. "Why go back there, where we can all expect to be stabbed in the back one day? Why not stay here instead?" His face turned crafty. "We could make it worth your while."

Uhura almost rolled her eyes, but kept herself under control. Bribery hadn't worked the first time Kirk tried it; what made him think it would work now?

Spock was silent, then stepped back. Away from the holding cell. "Very well. If you do not wish to cooperate, I will be forced to rely strictly upon my own conclusions. When the time comes, you will be escorted to the transporters and returned to your own universe." He left, Kirk shouting after him angrily, Scott yelling as well, McCoy raising his voice to join the others.

"Ye couldn't let it go," Scott snarled. "If ye've cooked it for us..."

"And what exactly could you have told him?" Kirk snarled back. The two men were inches apart, fists clenched. "Spock's ten times the scientist you are," he sneered.

"It's as much an engineerin' issue as anythin' else," Scott countered through stiff lips. "If he gets somethin' wrong because you made him decide not to speak to us, we could end up stuck here forever. Or worse."

"He'll be back." Just like that, the anger was gone. Kirk rocked back on his heels, grinning cheekily. "He's bluffing."

"Vulcans don't bluff," Uhura blurted, then bit her lip in vexation. Antagonizing Kirk was not part of her plan.

Kirk shrugged. "Maybe they don't. Maybe they just tell us that so we don't know when they're doing it."

"Maybe it doesn't make a damned bit of difference," McCoy put in. "Pretty soon the whole crew will know we don't belong here. From what I've seen, there's not a chance in hell of swingin' any of them over to our side even if we did want to stay here. Which I, for one, don't." He plopped onto the bunk and leaned back, arms crossed, a frown creasing his forehead. "Let Spock work it out, put that brain of his to use." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Now that we know this place exists, what's to keep us from coming back whenever we want?"

That gave them all pause. Even Kirk smiled as he mulled the possibilities. He glanced over his shoulder at the remaining security guards standing one on either side of the doors. He gave them a cheeky salute before dragging Uhura over and half-pushing her to sit next to McCoy on the bunk. "Good point, Doc," he said, lowering his voice. "We'll just sit tight, let Spock figure out how to send us home, and work out a plan for our return."

Uhura could tell he was already spinning out scenarios in his mind, and she took a moment to admire his ability to find the advantage in any situation. It was how he'd managed to rise to the top so quickly; that, and a few judiciously arranged "accidents" involving his nominal superiors. _You've made the right choice, Nyota,_ she thought with satisfaction as she squirmed her way into a more comfortable position on the bunk. _James Kirk and this baby are gonna get you everything you ever wanted._


	6. Release Date/Welcoming Committee

A few hours later, Uhura was ready to reevaluate her opinion of James Tiberius Kirk...and everyone else, for that matter. Boredom had set in after Kirk, McCoy and Scott had variously attempted to feign illness, start a fight (the guard merely stunned them through the forcefield), and threaten to kill themselves and/or the other members of the landing party if they weren't immediately freed. That threat was taken seriously enough that they soon found themselves separated, although not without knocking out one of the guards before they themselves were stunned and shoved into their own holding cells.

Through it all, Uhura kept herself aloof, showing no resistance, offering the guards no reason to stun her. But she'd certainly had time to watch and listen to her fellow prisoners, and an ugly truth was dawning: no matter how arrogant and powerful they were on their own ship, they were incapable of accepting defeat gracefully. Not that such a characteristic was a virtue, at least not in their own world. But it was unsettling to see Kirk sulking like a petulant child, to see McCoy pacing back and forth and muttering to himself about needing a drink, even to see Scott methodically punching the walls.

Not that she was taking captivity any better, but she had plans for her future, all of which were predicated on their swift return back to the real universe. _Jim Kirk will be back to his normal self once we get home,_ she consoled herself, although a nagging doubt remained: what if this _was_ his true self? She didn't want to think about it, but there wasn't much else to do while they waited...and waited...and waited.

Uhura jerked her head back as something woke her up–when had she dozed off, and for how long? No matter. She slowly rose to her feet, watching warily as Spock and a veritable flock of security officers entered the brig. "We have ascertained how you were exchanged for our crewmembers, and are prepared to return you to your universe."

"It's about bloody time," Scott muttered. "Let's get this over with, then."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "Past experience has led me to conclude that you will require restraints until we have placed you on the transporter pad. I trust you will not object." It was obvious this was not a request, but an expectation.

Kirk was mutinous. Of course. He never liked being told what to do, even by his nominal superiors; being ordered around by Spock must be even more galling, Uhura decided. She, of course, intended to offer no protests. As far as she was concerned, they couldn't get her home fast enough.

In the end, Kirk had to be rendered unconscious, and the other three sullenly allowed themselves to be shackled, like common slaves. Uhura, for one, had endured worse humiliations in her climb to Chief Communications Officer, but it still rankled.

Spock stood silently by as Kirk was dumped unceremoniously onto the transporter pad. He continued to watch as the others were released from the binders and ordered onto the pad next to him. Uhura stepped delicately around Kirk's head, smiling seductively at the visibly flustered transporter operator–Kyril, was it? Or Karl? Something like that. "Nice to know someone will miss me," she purred, her smile deepening as she stared into his eyes in her patented "there's no one for me but you, baby" manner.

"Mr. Kyle." Spock's voice broke the spell, and her victim snapped to attention. Kyle, right, that was his name. If this version was so transfixed by her, chances were good she could use that to her advantage back home with the real Kyle. For however long she remained on the _Enterprise_ , of course. With Kirk's baby, she could have herself transferred anywhere she wanted, with Kirk willingly helping. Anything to keep his child safe, to keep that child away from his enemies. And his ship was full of enemies, Sulu among them. He would think nothing of arranging a little "accident" if he found himself thwarted.

"Please transport our 'guests' back home," Spock instructed in that cool Vulcan manner of his. So precise, so logical...most of the time. If gossip had any basis in truth, the state of his quarters after his emergency mating with Christine Chapel was evidence that even Vulcans could lose control sometimes.

That was her last thought before the transporter was activated.

**oOo**

When vision returned, Uhura almost wept with relief at seeing Spock-the real Spock, beard and all-standing in front of the transporter console. She looked down and smiled. She was back in her own clothes, back on her own ship, ready for her plans to come to fruition. Ready to get everything she ever wanted. The only blight on their return was seeing Marlena Moreau standing next to Spock. Greeting her lover, of course. Uhura allowed a satisfied smile to cross her face. Not Kirk's lover for long, not if she had anything to say about it. Even if he shipped Uhura off to a safe haven immediately, she could still make a few demands based on her new status. And if she never asked him for another thing, she was absolutely going to demand that Moreau be demoted and sent off to the remotest space station for monitoring duty the lowliest ensign would sneer at.

Before Kirk could do more than swagger off the pad and reach for Moreau, Spock stepped forward. "Captain Kirk, I hereby relieve you of duty. By order of Starfleet, I am taking command of this ship."

Kirk's smile froze, then deepened. "Spock, it's me, the real Kirk. The imposters are gone, you sent them packing, just like I expected you to." Apparently Kirk also subscribed to the "judicious flattery" theory.

Spock remained unmoving. "Be that as it may, I am under orders from Starfleet to place you under arrest for your incompetence in handling the Halkan situation." He glanced at the others, immobilized with shock in the act of removing themselves from the transporter pad. Uhura shared an uncertain stare with McCoy, then returned her attention to Spock. This couldn't be happening, not now!

Kirk stepped forward, then stopped as Spock's body guards moved in threateningly. "Spock, I don't understand. What could those imposters have done besides screw up the schedule a bit? Don't tell me they took action against the Halkans," he sneered. "From what we saw of their universe, they're too soft to do what needs doing in a situation like this."

Spock took a step back; interestingly enough, Moreau moved with him. In fact, she not only stepped away from Kirk, she stepped closer to Spock. Well, well; apparently Kirk wasn't the only one who needed someone to warm his bed when he was alone. And here Uhura had pegged the imposter Kirk in the role.

Kirk's smile vanished as he witnessed that particular bit of by-play. "All right, what's going on here? I'm gone less than two days and it's mutiny?" He aimed a deadly glare toward Moreau, who visibly flinched and dropped her eyes. "On all fronts?" His lip curled in a sneer. "I hope it was worth it, Marlena, because you know you will pay for this betrayal."

"Lt. Moreau is under my protection now," Spock said. "You would do well to remember that before threatening her. And I have Starfleet's authorization to remove you from your position as captain of this ship, so you would do well to think twice before threatening me, either." His voice was cold. "Am I clear?"

"Clear as a stab in the back," Kirk replied through clenched teeth. "So what now?"

"My men will escort you to your quarters, where you will remain until we reach Starfleet Headquarters. We have been ordered back there as soon as this situation is resolved to Starfleet's satisfaction."

"What about us?" Uhura interrupted. Desperation made her bold. In one instant, all her plans were falling apart; she had to find some way to salvage it. "Are we under arrest, too?"

"No. Only the Captain," was Spock's reply. "However, you will remain in your quarters until I am ready to review your actions during this situation and receive your reports on the occurrences in the other universe." Until he made sure of their loyalty to the new regime, he meant.

"The only 'action' Uhura saw was in my bed," Kirk sneered, his voice deliberately cruel as he stared at Moreau. Who flinched again, then steadied as Spock placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a move that they all recognized; Spock was definitely not bluffing when he said Moreau was under his protection. With that motion, Uhura cursed silently and bid her hopes of destroying the other woman farewell. The havoc she had wreaked on Moreau in the other universe would have to suffice.

"Before you confine us to quarters, Spock, I want to look everyone over in Sickbay," McCoy put in. "If that's all right with you," he added with just a touch of sarcasm. "Especially Lt. Uhura."

Spock looked at McCoy, alerted by the heavy emphasis in his tone. "What happened? Was she injured?"

McCoy stepped fully off the transporter pad as he shook his head, maintaining a deliberate distance between himself and Kirk. "The other Chapel claims Lt. Uhura is pregnant, but I'd rather check on that myself. Especially since we're not sure who the father might be."

That was too much for Kirk. "You know damn well who the father is," he roared, lunging for McCoy. Spock's men wrestled him away from the Doctor. "Tell him, Uhura!"

She smiled and moved closer to McCoy. "We both know you're only one possibility," she replied coolly. If Kirk was truly going down, she had no intention of going with him, and was grateful to McCoy for giving her an out. It was going to cost her, she knew that, but it was worth it. A girl had to hedge her bets, after all.

Scott spoke up. "It could be any of ours," he said, going along with McCoy. "We none of us realized her implant had either been destroyed or malfunctioned durin' th' transfer between universes. And we were all alone over there," he added blandly. "Touchin' their women would've given us away."

Kirk completely lost control of himself at this last betrayal. He screamed threats at all of them, thrashing in his captors' holds until Spock was forced to administer a Vulcan Nerve Pinch. Moreau whispered something in his ear, and Uhura saw the eyebrow go up before Spock ordered Kirk brought to the brig rather than his quarters. Interesting; there must be something in Kirk's quarters Moreau didn't want him to get his hands on now that she'd changed her allegiance to Spock. Uhura made a mental note to find out what it was as soon as possible.

"Very well," the Vulcan said to McCoy once Kirk's unconscious form had been dragged out of the Transporter Room. "Proceed to Sickbay, Doctor, and examine the landing party for any harmful after effects. Determine Lt. Uhura's condition, as well as the paternity of her child if she truly is pregnant. If it is Kirk's, terminate it immediately per Starfleet protocol." It was Uhura's turn to flinch, but she had expected this possibility from the moment Spock told Kirk he was under arrest.

"And if it's not?" Uhura asked.

"Then that will be up to you and the father to decide," Spock replied indifferently. "As your pregnancy appears to be the result of this transporter mishap, it is unlikely you will be punished for unauthorized removal of your implant." He turned his gaze on McCoy. "I will expect a report as soon as you have completed your examination," he said. "You are all to return immediately to your quarters once your physical status has been ascertained, and remain there until you are summoned for debriefing. Dismissed."

They filed sullenly out of the Transporter Room. More of Spock's men fell into step with them, reminding them that even though they were home, things were still in turmoil. "I thought Spock was completely loyal to Kirk," Uhura muttered to McCoy as they marched down the corridor. "What happened to turn him against him? He knows it was that other Kirk who disobeyed orders regarding the Halkans."

McCoy shrugged. "Maybe that other Kirk got to him somehow. Told him Vulcans were never slaves in his own universe. Or maybe he just saw a chance to seize power, and he took it. Business as usual."

When they arrived in Sickbay, the guards remained outside while the other three filed in. McCoy hastened to his desk, where he picked up a small scanner, pressed a button on it and gestured the other two closer. "No one can overhear us now," he said as he plopped heavily into his chair and reached down to pull out a bottle of Saurian brandy and three glasses. He poured them each a generous measure and swallowed his in one gulp. "So what's the plan?" He looked at Uhura.

She stared blankly back at him. "Plan? I don't have a plan." When had she become the leader of this group, anyway?

"You always have a plan," McCoy scoffed. "Do you want me to terminate, or to tell everyone it's mine or Scott's?" Scott looked like he might object, but said nothing as McCoy continued. "Or do we wait it out, see if Kirk's friends in Starfleet can get his ass out of this mess before he winds up 'accidentally' killed?" He sank back in his chair and poured himself another drink.

Uhura sipped hers slowly while she mulled over the possibilities she had just been offered. Who knew McCoy was capable of thinking that far ahead; everyone was full of surprises these days. "Run the tests first," she finally said. "Make sure we're all right, and make doubly sure Chapel wasn't lying." She'd never expected her personal plans for advancement to have such far-reaching effects, but sometimes you had to take what the universe dished out. If McCoy was willing to deceive Spock in this matter, then maybe this could all still work out.

"For now, we tell everyone the baby is yours," she decided, nodding at McCoy. "That way, if Kirk manages to get out of this, then all we have to do is tell him we did it to protect his child. Tell him how Spock ordered it terminated and let him take it out on the Vulcan."

"And if th' Captain canna save himself?" Scott asked, downing his own glass of brandy and pushing it toward McCoy for a refill.

"Then I'll have it terminated myself," Uhura said coldly. "There's no percentage in having Kirk's child if he isn't around to protect it. Or me."

"Let's get this party started," McCoy said, gesturing toward one of the biobeds. "The sooner we know what we're dealing with medically, the better off we'll be."


	7. Business As Usual

Spock, fortunately, seemed inclined to take McCoy at his word. He checked the medical findings in a cursory manner. Cursory for a Vulcan, of course. Which simply meant he didn't feel the need to administer a mind meld to confirm the doctor's report. And why should he? Uhura thought as she was cleared to return to duty. Scott wasn't known as an ally to any of the other three, and although Uhura suspected that Spock knew about her previous assignation with Captain Kirk, he no doubt saw it as what it started out to be: a chance to get ahead on the ship by bedding the captain.

Of course, Uhura mused as she sauntered down the hall towards her quarters, she still wasn't home free. Not by a long shot. One word from McCoy or Scott, one hint, and she was as good as dead. Or at least, her baby was. She'd have to do something about that, and fast. Whatever they wanted from her for their silence would be worth it, especially if Kirk managed to wiggle out of this situation as he had so many others in the past. However, the longer he remained a prisoner the worse his chances of surviving became. Spock wasn't likely to kill him, he was way too by-the-rules for that. But there were others with a lot of ambition, or a desire to make a name for themselves, or even a healthy case of good old fashioned vengeance to work out. Kirk was a target as long as he remained on board.

No, if this wasn't resolved to her satisfaction, and soon, Uhura knew she'd have to take matters into her own hands. McCoy and Scott knew too much, and their alliance was too new and unstable for her to trust them. Hell, she didn't trust them now, not even after they'd covered for her. For all she knew, they were setting up a scheme of their own, with her as the pawn. "Not if I get them first," Uhura muttered to herself darkly. She'd keep an eye on them, both of them, and at the first sign of trouble, she'd take them out.

Satisfied, she slowed her steps as she reached the corridor with Kirk's quarters. There were two of Spock's minions out front, guarding it. Whatever Moreau had whispered in Spock's ears, it had been good.

The sounds of a disturbance came from down the hall, and the two guards, obviously bored, craned their necks to get a better look. Angry cries, punctuated by heavy grunts that indicated intense physical effort, rang through the hall, and the guards drifted farther from the door as they watched what Uhura assumed to be a fairly substantial altercation.

She took a deep breath and sidled closer to the door, still undetected by the guards. The sounds of the fight intensified, and they finally abandoned their post altogether in order to watch whichever crewmen had decided to attack each other today. Uhura could care less who they were; she knew a golden opportunity when she saw one. She slipped into the room after quickly bypassing the security code. It was a little communications trick she'd never shared with anyone, and the person who had shared it with her had met with an unfortunate accident shortly afterwards. A shame, really, but she'd had no choice in the matter.

When she entered the darkened quarters, she knew she had only moments at best, and put those moments to good use. She knew there was something in these quarters, some secret Kirk had foolishly shared with Moreau, and Uhura was determined to find out what it was. In the seconds she had before the guards got bored and either broke up the fight or let it die on its own, she placed an untraceable spying device into Kirk's open bottle of Saurian brandy. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened the doors. If there was anyone there, she'd say she'd left an earring, and even had an extra one on hand. The Gods of Fortune, however, continued to smile on her; the guards had finally waded in and were in the process of enthusiastically breaking up the fight while breaking a few heads at the same time.

Uhura managed to slip away just as the fight was finally dispersing, the ones able to walk staggering towards Sickbay, the losers left to lie until consciousness returned or they bled to death. Uhura ignored them as she hurried to her quarters. She had some spying to do.

Uhura watched intently as Moreau stepped into quarters she had so recently shared with Kirk. Spock had ordered her to move into other quarters "for the time being," which Uhura knew meant until Spock himself moved in and decided what to do with her. She'd taken it meekly enough, Uhura noted with scorn. The monitoring device had alerted her to the other woman's presence when she went to retrieve her belongings. It was the perfect time to see exactly what secret she was about to reveal to Spock.

It was a disappointing first ten minutes as Moreau moved in and out of the monitoring device's range, packing her belongings into a random assortment of bags and boxes. Gradually, Uhura noticed that the other woman's attention kept drifting to a wall plaque, until finally she abandoned her packing and went to stand directly in front of it.

She pressed in several spots, and Uhura leaned closer, trying for a closer look. She would review the scans later for more detail, but she wanted to see exactly what the other woman was doing. Uhura arched an eyebrow as the panel raised, revealing what looked like a standard issue monitor. Surely that couldn't be Kirk's secret; Uhura had plenty of such devices herself. She returned her attention to Moreau as she fiddled with a set of dials. The view screen showed Spock on the Bridge, sitting in Kirk's chair like he had a right to it. Then the view changed, showing Kirk in the Brig. Uhura ground her teeth. Kirk was there because of something Moreau and that other Kirk must have done, there was no other explanation for Spock's sudden betrayal. Before she could open her mouth to curse them, however, she realized Moreau's finger was toying with a second button, one she hadn't gone near before.

"One touch, and away you go," Moreau whispered. "One push of the button, and no more James Kirk. That would make Spock's mission so much easier."

Mission? Spock had some kind of mission? Intrigued, Uhura leaned closer as Moreau continued to speak aloud to herself. Or to the monitor on the wall. "I never imagined I'd find myself in this position, Jim." Ah, speaking to absent lovers. How nauseating. "I never thought it would end like this." She laughed, a bitter sound. "Hell, I never imagined how it would end. Realistically, I guess you'd never be able to let me go. Not out of love, but because of this." She tapped the screen again as the miniature Kirk shifted restlessly onto his side. He was lying on the hard bench that was all the furniture the cell held. "Because I was there when you discovered it, and I helped you get it away from that scientist and onto the ship. With a touch of a button, anyone you want is dead. Vanished into nothingness."

Uhura's heart was pounding so loudly she almost didn't hear Moreau's next, regretful words. "And now, I'm about to tell someone else about it. I'm going to commit the unforgivable sin, and once I've done that..." Her voice trailed off and she turned away from the monitor without closing it. "No sense hiding it anymore. I don't know if Spock will have the courage to use it, but if he's going to do what the other James Kirk wanted him to do, if he's going to make changes in our universe, then he's probably going to have to eliminate a lot of obstacles. And I'm going to be there to help him."

As she left the room, Moreau whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her mind racing, Uhura turned the monitor from active to passive mode. Spock's shift would be over in a few hours, and then Moreau would reveal Kirk's secret weapon. An alien device that could quietly and efficiently remove any obstacles on Spock's newfound path to power.

She rose to her feet, not quite pacing but unable to sit still as she contemplated the ramifications of the weapon Moreau had unwittingly revealed to her. This technology could have propelled Kirk to the very top, even to the Emperor's throne. And now Spock had it, and some kind of mission of change mandated to him by the mirror James Kirk. Would the Empire, for the first time in its history, be ruled by a member of a former slave race? Incredible as it might be, Spock appeared poised for just such a move.

Then again, why not somebody else instead of Spock? Moreau was the only one outside of Kirk who had access to or knowledge of the technology. At least, as far as they knew. Uhura needed time to figure out how to best use this to her advantage, but time was a luxury she could not afford. Not in this situation. Sometimes patience was the way to go, but sometimes you had to grab for the glory. And she'd be damned if she'd allow a Vulcan and the Captain's former slut to take something she herself hungered for.

"I can't do this alone." She spoke aloud as she sat on the edge of her bed. As soon as Moreau showed Spock the device, any advantage Uhura had would be gone. The obvious solution was to steal it and somehow get Kirk out of the Brig and off the ship.

She considered and discarded McCoy and Scott as possible allies in this endeavor. In spite of their earlier cooperation, she was still too unsure of them to risk something this big. Kirk, at least, not only knew how to use the device, but also had the ruthlessness to do so. And he was known to reward loyalty. Uhura had aspirations, but trying to unseat the Emperor single-handedly, even with a secret weapon, wasn't one of them. If she worked things right, then she could become the powerful force behind the throne, especially since she was carrying Kirk's child. She glanced down at her stomach, still flat and beautiful. Temporarily giving up her figure would be well worth it. All she had to do now was convince Kirk of the truth; that he was, indeed, the child's father, and that she'd lied to protect them both.

In spite of the considerable risks, Uhura knew this was her best option. Although she'd been doing a great deal of thinking on her feet lately, she knew her strength was in long-term planning. Her gut was telling her this was the best way to get what she wanted, to salvage the plans she'd already put into motion.

"The first thing I have to do is get the guards away from Kirk's cabin and replace the weapon with something else," Uhura mused as she returned to her own monitor.


	8. Escape Plans

A few hours later, after taking care of the first part of her plan, Uhura was making her way toward the Brig when a hand clapped itself over her mouth. She felt herself being jerked back through the doorway from which the arm had presumably emerged, and tried to fight back. Terrified and outraged, she lashed out at her attacker, fought against the arm pinning her own arms to her sides, then gasped as she was suddenly released and whirled around to face her attacker.

James Kirk.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "How did you escape?"

"I still have allies on this ship. People who understand that this situation with Spock is only temporary. Unlike certain others," he spat out.

Uhura stood firm, although she was shaking inside. "I did what I had to do to save our baby," she replied. "You know Starfleet protocol in situations like this."

Kirk stared at her through narrowed eyes. "DNA results say the baby's McCoy's."

"We both know how easy it is to falsify such reports, especially when the Chief Medical Officer is the one performing it," Uhura replied dismissively. "When it's safe, you can have your own people run the scans to show you I'm telling the truth." He appeared hesitant, and Uhura pressed her point. "We were just covering ourselves, the same way you would have. Covering ourselves and protecting your child," she added. "Not to mention protecting other valuable assets."

As she'd hoped, Kirk was diverted by that revelation. "Assets? What assets?" he asked warily. But his stance had relaxed somewhat, and Uhura felt a fraction more confident that he wasn't going to kill her. He didn't seem to entirely believe her, but she didn't expect him to. Not until he found a doctor of his own to double check McCoy's results. Uhura wasn't worried about it; the child was his, and his escape proved to her that he was going to come out on top of this situation, as usual. Once again, she'd made the right decision.

"Marlena Moreau was going to show Spock exactly how you rose to the top so quickly," she replied, and waited for the explosion.

It wasn't long in coming. "That bitch!" Kirk paced the length of the cramped quarters several time, chest heaving, hands clenching and unclenching as he sought to contain his rage. "She betrayed me with Spock, she told him my secrets! I'll kill her!"

"That would be a bad idea," Uhura put in as his furious pacing finally slowed. "Spock's made it quite clear that she's under his protection. That's the only reason she's still alive," she added, making her own loyalties quite clear. "But I kept her from telling Spock about that alien device in your room."

Kirk stared at her. "You kept her from telling him about the Tantalus Field? How?"

Tantalus Field. So that was what it was called. "I stole it," Uhura said simply. "So she has nothing to show him, nothing except a monitoring device." Its resemblance to such a piece of equipment had been vital to her plans, especially since she knew she was racing against time. "One several times more advanced than anything on this ship, but nothing that could do what she claimed, invisibly kill enemies from a distance. I think I managed to put a bit of a wedge in Spock's reliance on her," she gloated.

"Where is it now?" Kirk was grinning, his tension completely eased, and Uhura exulted in his attention. She had it fully now, and not just because of the baby. She'd proven herself to him, proven her loyalty and courage and coolness under fire. What a team they'd make!

"Somewhere safe," she replied, not bothering to keep the elation from her voice. Let him think it was only because she'd outmaneuvered Moreau and Spock. "I've rigged the internal sensors so it looks like no one ever entered your quarters." They'd run into a Klingon patrol, further delaying Moreau's attempt to show Spock the weapon. The Tantalus Field; she'd have to get used to calling it by its name. As if the Universe itself was helping her, one of the guards was injured during the attack, his partner forced to carry him to Sickbay and leave Kirk's quarters clear just long enough for Uhura to make the trade. She'd gladly sacrificed one of her own, highly sophisticated monitoring devices, exchanging it as quickly as possible for the alien device.

Once she left Kirk's quarters, luck stayed with her; she ran into no one on her way to her own quarters, where she quickly hid the device and made her way to the Bridge for her duty shift. "What should we do now?" She already had a good idea, but it never hurt to let Kirk think he was the one with all the answers.

"We have to get off this ship," Kirk said, just as she'd expected. He started pacing once again, but thoughtfully, his eyes full of schemes. "Take the Tantalus Field and leave. For now," he added.

"Why not just kill Spock and take back your command?" Uhura asked. Just to be sure.

Kirk shook his head. "Not if Starfleet wants me out. If it was just a typical coup, I'd stay. But I have to lean on some people who owe me before I come back, otherwise they'll just have someone else take me down. This is something I've expected," he added. "I have as many enemies in Starfleet Command as I do allies. Time to tip the balance in my favor."

"Using your device?" Uhura guessed. Kirk's slow grin was answered by one of her own, and she dared step closer to him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Empress Sato seized power by her bold use of alien technology," she reminded him. "With what you've got, there's no telling how far you could go."

"Just remember, I'm no Jonathan Archer," Kirk reminded her, taking her arm in a painful grasp. The First Officer of the first _Enterprise_ was still synonymous with stupidity in Starfleet circles. "I'm not easily duped by a pretty face and protestations of loyalty." Uhura refrained from pointing out his recent betrayal by Moreau. "You try and double cross me and you'll end up dead."

"You're all I've ever wanted," Uhura said truthfully, startled by her own honesty. This time, the percentage wasn't in lying or covering up her true feelings.

Kirk was startled too, she could see it in his eyes. His grip slackened from painful to firm as he pulled her toward him for a passionate kiss.


	9. Moment of Truth

"Lieutenant, I believe you had something you wished to show me."

Moreau looked up, startled; she hadn't heard Spock enter the lab. She dismissed the ensign on duty with a glance. The young blonde gave a knowing smirk as she sauntered into the other room, no doubt to relay what she would perceive as the latest gossip to her cronies in other departments. Moreau tossed her head. No matter; even if she didn't end up in Spock's bed, she was still his most important ally at this time. "It's in the quarters I shared with Captain Kirk," was all she said. "Shall I take you there now?"

Spock nodded, then waited until she closed down the file she had been working on and made her way to the door at the far end of the room. Neither spoke as they traversed the corridors leading to what she still thought of as "her" quarters. Never mind the smaller accommodations that had been made available to her; to Moreau, they were only temporary. She'd had a taste of the good life being Kirk's Woman, and a glimpse at the possibility of a better life dangled before her by his counterpart. She knew that sticking with Spock was her best option no matter how he decided to handle that Kirk's challenge.

When they arrived at the door, Spock's guards came instantly to attention. "Has anyone been inside since you came on duty?" It wasn't necessary to ask, as Spock fully intended to check the scanners, but he asked anyway. The acting Captain of the _Enterprise_ was nothing if not thorough.

"No sir." The guard hesitated, and Spock became, if possible, even stiffer. "During the Klingon attack, Collins was injured, sir." A trickle of sweat made its way down the guard's temple. "I took him to Sickbay. But I checked the sensor logs, sir. No one came in here during our absence."

"I will of course be checking those logs myself." Spock's voice was the coldest Moreau had ever heard. "As for your dereliction of duty, if nothing is amiss I might be inclined to overlook it." He glanced over at the second guard. "You were summoned here while Styles and Collins were away?"

"Yessir. I arrived just before Styles returned, sir." The second guard didn't even look at Spock, just kept facing straight ahead. Moreau was frankly surprised he wasn't trying to make Styles look bad, but sometimes camaraderie formed in spite of the competitive, if not downright lethal, culture Starfleet cultivated on its ships.

"Very well." If Spock was surprised by the man's attitude, it didn't show. Then again, nothing ever did. "Lt. Moreau and I are not to be disturbed short of another attack by the Klingons, or an emergency of similar urgency. Am I understood?"

"Yessir!" both guards barked out at the same time. As they passed through the doorway, Moreau thought she caught the second man smirking, but when she whipped her head around to stare him down, his eyes were front and center, his mouth a tight line without a hint of humor. _He'd better keep it that way or Spock will have his hide_ , Moreau thought as she stepped back into the quarters she and Kirk had so recently shared.

"Where is it?" Spock stood, hands behind his back, waiting. Moreau moved toward the innocuous-looking Tantalus Field, hesitating for a moment before touching it. It was a secret she and Jim had shared, and she still felt like a traitor. Only the promise of a better future for the Empire, the promise that other Jim Kirk had dangled before them, kept her fingers steady as she pressed the buttons and powered up the screen.

"A monitoring device." Spock's voice remained neutral as Moreau brought up a picture of the Brig. This time it was Sulu she focused on.

"Not just a monitor," she corrected Spock. "This is how Jim Kirk's enemies so conveniently 'disappeared' just when he needed them to." She was about to explain how it worked, but stopped, peering closely at the dials. Her face drained of color. "Impossible!"

Spock immediately came to her side. "A problem, Lieutenant?"

She turned slowly to face him. "It's impossible, but someone's switched out the machine. This is a fake!" Panic flared in her eyes as she took a step back. "How did he do it?" she whispered, half to herself as she realized who must have taken it. She was shaking; if Spock thought she was lying, he would force a meld onto her without compunction. It would show that she was telling the truth, but it was an experience she did not look forward to. "He must have told someone else about it, that's the only explanation." She risked a look at Spock. "I swear, I didn't help him, I didn't take it. You have to believe me!"

"I do." Spock's words were spoken in the same level tone he'd used since bringing her here. "I should have anticipated something like this since the moment the replacement Kirk hinted at the power it held. But I allowed myself to be distracted by the return of our own crew, when I should have made this a priority. I do not believe you are to blame." He reached out suddenly and grasped her arm, yanking her close. "But if I discover that I am mistaken in this belief, you will regret it."

He pushed her away and strode out of the room. All Moreau could do was watch him leave, rubbing her arm. There would be a bruise, a reminder that, in spite of the other Kirk's promises and pledges, she was still living in the same brutal universe she always had been. Spock might be the agent for change Kirk predicted, but his methods were still grounded in their shared reality.

_Whoever did this, whoever stole the Tantalus Field, I hope you blast them into insanity,_ she thought as she glared at the fake monitor. With a snarl of frustration, she snatched up the nearest breakable object and hurled it at the screen. The bottle of Saurian brandy and screen both shattered in a satisfying manner. Ignoring the glass shards crunching beneath her feet, she stepped forward, intending to do further damage, when something caught her eye. Dangling from one of the protruding edges of the now-ruined fake was something that looked suspiciously like a miniature spying device. Moreau leaned forward, reaching out to catch it delicately on the end of one fingernail.

"Gotcha," she said softly, a triumphant grin curling her lips. Only one person on this ship was capable of creating such a thing, so tiny and yet so dangerous. She closed her hand around the miniaturized equipment, careful not to do any more damage to it. She would show it to Spock, and he would understand its significance immediately.

Uhura was going to pay for this treachery.


	10. Rock and a Hard Place

McCoy stepped into his cabin and swore at the sight of Lt. Uhura sprawled comfortably across his bed. He swore even more vehemently when Kirk strolled out of his bathroom and plopped down next to her. Grinning. "What the hell are you doing here?" McCoy growled, hastily moving into his quarters enough to allow the doors to hiss shut behind him. He fumbled for the lock, keying in the code with shaking fingers. Everyone knew Kirk had vanished from the Brig, leaving at least two dead security guards behind him. Not to mention Sulu; he'd taken the time to thrust a dagger through the over-ambitious helmsman's heart as well. McCoy assumed he'd heard the same gossip about Sulu's aborted takeover attempt that he himself had heard bandied about Sickbay.

Of course, gossip also had Kirk fleeing the ship altogether, gossip that had appeared to be substantiated when one of the shuttles made an unauthorized departure in the minutes before the bodies had been found. McCoy wasn't exactly pleased to see this theory proven wrong.

While McCoy fought to control his panicky thoughts, Kirk threw an arm around Uhura's shoulder. She snuggled closer, murmuring something inaudible in his ear. He nodded, his eyes never leaving McCoy. "Nyota tells me you fixed things for her, helped her save my child from Spock. That you did it to help me."

McCoy was sweating, but he nodded, moving shakily to stand by his desk. He glanced at the chair, sitting only when Kirk grunted assent. "Yeah, she had me fix the DNA scans." He allowed his gaze to drift to Uhura, then focused his attention on Kirk. "She knew you'd find a way to get out of this." His voice held grudging admiration.

"It was her idea to send out the shuttle," Kirk agreed, generously acknowledging Uhura's contribution. "It was my idea to blow it up."

McCoy stared at them, first Kirk, then Uhura. "You-blew it up?" He hadn't heard that, but then, he'd been busy with the autopsies Spock ordered on the three men Kirk had killed. Not that it took a great deal of imagination to identify two broken necks and a stab wound to the heart, but DNA had at least confirmed Kirk's role in the deaths.

"Actually, an over-zealous helmsman did, two seconds before Spock vaporized him for jumping the gun," Uhura said. She laid her head on Kirk's chest. "But the Captain knew he'd react that way. So now Spock thinks we're dead. And it needs to stay that way until we can actually get off this ship."

"That's where you come in," Kirk interjected, and McCoy found himself astonished; not only had he shared credit for a scheme with someone-with Uhura-he seemed to have actually formed a working partnership with her. Would wonders never cease...

"Wait a minute, you want me to help you? Are you insane?" The meaning of Kirk's words finally made its way past McCoy's off-balance thoughts. "If Spock finds out, I'm a dead man!"

"And if you turn us down or betray us, you're still a dead man," Uhura said coldly. "If we're caught or you give us up, all it will take is one word from me that you deliberately falsified medical information." She offered a chilling smile. "Spock will check it out himself, you know he will. And if we're executed, you will be, too. As an accomplice." She spoke the last words with relish.

McCoy reached with shaking hands for the bottle of Romulan ale sitting on his desk. He poured a healthy shot, downed it, then poured another. Before he could raise the glass to his lips a second time, Kirk reached out and took it from him. McCoy watched in silence as Kirk drank it, then held it out so McCoy could pour a third shot. This one Kirk passed to Uhura, who took a dainty sip before handing it back to him. "Not too much for me, darling," she murmured. "It's not good for the baby."

"Wh-what do you need me to do?" McCoy hated the nervous stutter that marred his voice, the sweat trickling down the sides of his face, the dampness of his palms, the racing of his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it. Just as there appeared to be nothing he could do to extricate himself from the precarious situation in which he currently found himself. Trapped between Spock's implacable sense of duty and Kirk's equally implacable thirst for power.

Kirk leaned back against the headboard of the narrow bunk. "For now, just listen..."

And when he finished, McCoy was white as death. This was worse than he'd imagined.

**oOo**

"What do you mean, they're dead?" Moreau couldn't begin to describe the mixture of emotions those words, spoken so coolly, brought up. Sorrow, relief, fear, others she couldn't quite figure out. Of all the men she'd ever known, James Kirk had always been the most alive, the most passionate, both in bed and out. It was inconceivable, that all that energy, all that passion, was just gone, scattered into space as a result of one impulsive nonentity's actions.

All Spock had to do was look at her with raised eyebrow, and she swallowed before moderating her tone. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe they're dead. If the shuttle was destroyed..."

"Then the Tantalus Field was destroyed along with them." Spock's voice remained impassive, even in the face of such a devastating blow to their plans. At least, Moreau assumed it was a devastating blow; surely the alien device that Kirk had used so effectively in the past to keep command of the _Enterprise_ would have been equally important to Spock's much more ambitious plans to alter the very nature of the Empire in which they lived.

Spock had entered Moreau's new quarters unannounced, unaccompanied by his usual bodyguards, and bearing the bad news which he'd just shared with her. "May I ask what your next move is?" she ventured to ask as he remained standing by her desk. She presumed he had more to say on the matter, or else he wouldn't have bothered coming to see her personally. Unless he simply wanted to study her reaction, to see if she still harbored an emotional attachment to the man whose bed she'd shared for almost two years.

If that was the case, then she wasn't afraid to show him how the news affected her, the bewildered dismay, the guilty sense of relief. And if rumors she'd heard about Vulcans were true, then he could probably feel those emotions whether she showed them or not.

"I need to know everything about this device that you knew, everything you learned from watching Kirk use it." Moreau sucked in a panicked breath. Spock's words were tantamount to an announcement that he intended to perform a mind meld on her. At least, she thought bitterly, he was deigning to inform her first.

"Everything I know about the Tantalus Field, or everything I know about James Kirk?" Some of the bitterness crept into her words as she voiced her suspicions as to his true intent. She should have known he didn't believe her when she protested her innocence; like everyone else, he wanted to use her, expected her to betray him and was fully prepared to betray her in return. So much for being honest, not guarding her reactions to his unexpected news... "I told you, I didn't help him escape..."

"And I told you I believed you," Spock cut in coolly, moving finally to stand next to her. She had been sitting at the console when he entered her quarters, and had moved only to rise to her feet. "I am not requesting this meld because I believe you lied to me, Marlena."

It was the first time he'd used her given name, and hearing it this sent an unexpected shiver of pleasure down her spine. "Requesting?" she repeated, once she could speak. When had Spock ever "requested" a meld and meant exactly that and nothing more?

"If we are to effect the changes that will keep some semblance of order for our various peoples longer than the projected 200 year existence of the current Empire, then we must begin with our personal methods," Spock replied. "I will not force this meld on you, but you must understand that it is vital I learn as much about the Tantalus Field as I can, including that which you do not consciously recall."

"But if it was destroyed, why bother?" Moreau was thrown off-balance by Spock's radical departure from the norm, but it gave her a cautious sort of hope; if he meant what he said, than that other Kirk was right. Spock was the right person to bring about the revolution he predicted was necessary to improve things for everyone in the Empire.

"Because there is a 48.597 percent chance that Kirk and Uhura were not on board, that it was merely a decoy, and that they remain hidden on board this vessel. Security is currently searching for them."

"If they were still alive and in possession of the Tantalus Field, you and I would both be dead by now," Moreau argued. Another shiver crossed her spine, this time a chilling reminder of how Kirk had last spoken to her, the fury in his eyes at her betrayal.

"That is something I intend to confirm." Spock was standing even closer, and Moreau fought the urge to back away. He reached tentatively toward her face. "Once the field was deactivated, removed from its place in Kirk's quarters, how quickly could it be reestablished for use elsewhere? Once again, I request permission to search for the information I need in the one place I can access it: Your mind. I would not ask if it were not vital to our continued survival."

He meant it, every word, Moreau realized, and realized she was nodding her head, staring wordlessly into his dark, serious eyes. She continued to keep her gaze locked with his as his fingers pressed against her temples, and he began a chant she'd never heard before: "My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts..."


	11. Bodies in Motion

"You can't be serious!" McCoy felt the sweat trickle down his brow, wiped it away with a shaking hand. "You'll never get Scott to agree!"

"Just get him here," Kirk ordered. "He'll agree. I know a few things about our Chief Engineer that he wouldn't want to reach Starfleet Command's ears. Or Spock's." He smirked as if he'd just made a joke.

"What's to stop me from just telling Spock where you are and taking my chances?" McCoy's voice was challenging. "He might show leniency if I come clean and turn you two in."

"We'll be watching you." That was Uhura, her voice silky. "Remember how the Captain's enemies have always just vanished?" Her tone remained the same, but the threat behind each word was unmistakable. McCoy, already ghostly, blanched further. "We have a way to monitor you, and if you do decide to betray us," she shrugged. "Let's just say it wouldn't be in your best interest to do so." She smiled. "However, aiding us could be extremely beneficial."

"Get Scott here," Kirk snapped, jumping to his feet and towering over McCoy's seated form. "I don't care how you do it, just get him here." He reached down, yanking the doctor to his feet by the front of his blue uniform top. "We need him to get us back to the mirror universe."

"But why?" McCoy was bewildered, and didn't bother trying to hide it. "What could you possibly gain by going back there?" Another objection occurred to him: "How do you even know it'll work without another transporter exchange?"

"We don't." Kirk shoved the other man away from him, toward the door. "But you and Scott are going to help us figure it out."

McCoy left at a stumble, quickly regaining his footing once out in the corridor, where others might see him and wonder why he was staggering _out_ of his quarters. Especially without a bottle under his arm.

_How the hell did I end up in this mess?_ He found himself wondering as he strode down the corridor. Even after ascertaining that he was, indeed, alone, he kept his mouth shut. After all, Uhura wasn't the only one spying on the crew. He'd grown adept at avoiding trouble on board the _Enterprise_ , aside from his gross miscalculation with Christine Chapel before she left the ship under Spock's protection, forever out of his own reach.

Sure, he was a competent surgeon, brilliant at times, and could wield the standard torturer's implements when required during the odd interrogation deemed too important for even the Agony Booth, but he knew, deep down, he wasn't considered reliable enough for a posting at Starfleet Medical, where he really wanted to be. It was his bitch of an ex-wife, of course; she'd made damned sure he ended up as far away from Earth and their daughter as possible. He could handle his liquor; she had no right to insinuate that it was because of his drinking that damned Admiral had died…But, he thought with a certain malicious relish, even her well-placed family members couldn't just make him disappear. He had friends of his own, people who needed him to stay alive in order to keep their own secrets, so at least his exile involved a posting on the most notorious ship in the fleet.

Of course, life on the _Enterprise_ wasn't exactly a free ride. Although he was allowed to experiment on the various alien life forms they encountered, and although his credit account was growing fat with the bribes most crewmembers paid to ensure their continued well-being while under his care, he still had to be alert. Alliances between crews of different ships were rare, but his spot on the _Enterprise_ was coveted by more than one of his medical rivals, and he'd already dodged one assassination attempt not too long ago. Why couldn't everyone just leave him the hell alone?

With these and other self-pitying thoughts to keep him company, McCoy continued down to Engineering. He had no idea how he was going to convince Scott to come back with him to his quarters, as Kirk had ordered, but he would find a way if he had to bash him over the head and order a couple of the security guards whose loyalty he was paying for to bring the Chief Engineer there.

Of course, that would probably result in their deaths once they realized Kirk and Uhura were still on the ship, but it was all part of the job. Certainly he wasn't going to lose any sleep worrying over it.

**oOo**

"Do you think he believed us?"

Kirk shrugged, taking another healthy swig from the bottle. Uhura swung her legs over the side of McCoy's bunk, joining him. "If he didn't, if he goes to Spock, then we're dead," she pressed.

"He believed us. You," Kirk corrected himself, flashing her a smile that raised her pulse and weakened her knees. "He believed you. As far as he knows, I've got something to keep him in line, not just a pile of useless equipment that'll take days to properly calibrate and set back up." He swaggered over to the bunk, offering Uhura another sip of the brandy. She shook her head and ran her fingers up his arm, smiling at the goose bumps she raised. He lowered his head for another searing kiss, pulling her close and letting the bottle drop to the floor as she clung to him, moaning his name as his lips moved to her neck and began exploring the flesh exposed by her low-cut neckline.

Their kisses grew more fervent as they tugged each other's clothing off. Kirk stopped her when Uhura started to remove her boots, and her smile turned wicked as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of her. If McCoy was going to betray them, if they were about to die or face imprisonment, then whoever walked in on them was going to be treated to a real eyeful. That was Uhura's last, defiant thought before surrendering herself completely to the moment and the man sharing it with her.

**oOo**

Scott had his head buried in a technical manual when McCoy arrived. "This had better be important," he growled without looking up when he felt the other man's presence behind him.

"I need your help in Sickbay," McCoy replied. Scott turned to stare incredulously at the doctor, the last person he'd expected to see in Engineering. "It can't wait, and I don't want any of your lackeys touching the diagnostic equipment." His voice was etched with contempt, earning him a few sullen glares from the few technicians in earshot, which he ignored.

"I'll get to it later." Scott turned back to his manual dismissively.

"Fine, but when the acting Captain asks why the modifications he requested haven't been taken care of, I'll be sure to tell him you were too _busy_." With that, McCoy turned and started to walk away, hiding a grin as he heard Scott cursing and rising to his feet.

"What the bloody hell does Spock want the diagnostic equipment modified for?" Scott quickly caught up with McCoy, just outside the Engineering doors. McCoy shrugged and continued heading for the turbolift.

"You'll see," was all he said after he sent the lift to the deck holding his quarters. "I have to pick up the specifications from my quarters; it'll only take a minute," he added before Scott could protest. Or ask inconvenient questions. "This information wasn't transmitted through the ship's computers," he added as the turbolift doors whooshed open. "It only exists in hard copy."

Scott began to look interested in spite of himself, but he kept silent as they headed toward McCoy's quarters.

"This might take a second," McCoy cautioned as they reached his door. "You'd better come inside. I don't want anyone getting nosy."

Scott shrugged. "Fine, let's get on with it." He waited patiently as McCoy opened the door.


	12. Allied Forces

"Marlena."

That voice, oddly distant, why was it so far away? She'd just heard it, shared it, weaving around her mind, threading itself through her thoughts in a connection so deeply intimate she'd almost passed out from the sheer, unexpected pleasure of the sensation.

"Marlena."

There it was again, calling a name, her name? She couldn't remember, she was too dazed by the abrupt loss of contact to be able to respond.

"Marlena."

The third time Spock repeated her name, her eyes snapped open, and she released her breath in a ragged gasp. She was standing in her quarters, Spock was in front of her, staring at her with a faint line etched between his brows and a hint of a frown on his lips. Of course, it was his voice she'd heard, and he sounded so far away now because it was reaching her through the inadequate medium of her ears rather than directly, mind to mind. "Do you require medical assistance?"

"No," she managed to say, but the furrow between his brows only deepened instead of vanishing. She couldn't help felling disoriented; were all melds so…beautiful? It had been nothing like she'd been led to expect, far more intimate and not at all frightening or painful, except for the sudden loss she was experiencing now that it was over. She'd heard whispers, rumors, of the damage a meld could do, but nothing more than that, and certainly nothing like what she was still struggling to recover from. "Is it always like that?" The question was out before she could stop it.

She could have sworn there was a smile quirking the edges of Spock's lips, gone before she could blink. "Your mind was most cooperative. I believe you might be a latent telepath. I presume you found the experience…agreeable?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed, then blushed as she realized she sounded like she had after her first orgasm.

"I too found it agreeable," Spock surprised her by saying. She blushed even harder as she realized he understood exactly how she was currently feeling. "I did not intend for such a consequence, but your mind…" His voice trailed off, and she stared into his eyes, unable to move. "I have never experienced such a level of intimacy, nor achieved a meld with such ease, outside of the mating bond." He raised an eyebrow. "It was quite a novel experience."

"For me too," she replied, then took a deep breath. Pushing nervously at the masses of dark curls tumbling about her shoulders, she backed up a step. Deliberately distancing herself. "So what does that mean?"

He reached out with both hands, delicately placing his fingers along the sides of her face, trailing them down her neck. Refusing the distance. She closed her eyes and swallowed, then opened them as his hands reached her shoulders, pulling her unresisting form closer. "It means that, if you are amenable, I would like to explore this unique bond we seem to have formed. If we are to effect changes in our universe, such a bond could prove invaluable." Before she could be disappointed by his businesslike assessment of what had been an emotionally volatile experience for her, he added: "I believe we would both find such exploration…quite pleasurable."

She was only inches away, as close physically as they had been during the meld, and the feel of his hands on her shoulders was sending little crackles of pleasure through every nerve ending. Before she could wonder if that was deliberate, he bent his head down and kissed her.

_Now I know how Christine Chapel felt,_ was the incongruous thought that ran through her mind before she abandoned herself completely to the moment. His hands slid down her shoulders as he pulled her even closer, their bodies pressed together, limbs entwined. She barely noticed when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the narrow bunk her smaller quarters boasted, but was fully aware when he laid her down on it, if only because of the sudden space between them. She smiled as he raised her leg and removed her boot, pulling it off easily before reaching for the other leg. She watched eagerly as he removed the second boot, then knelt up to help him unfasten his clothing.

She paused as he removed her halter, and he stopped as well, sensitive to her sudden distraction. "Did you find it?" she asked, annoyed with herself for disturbing the moment. What if he took it as a rejection? But this was too important, she had to know. "Did I have any information about the Tantalus Field that could help you? Help us?" Her memories of the meld were purely emotional; she couldn't recall if he had plucked what he needed from her mind or not.

"Your memories were quite valuable," he replied, then lowered his head to her breast, delicately teasing first one nipple, then the next, with his lips and tongue. She gasped, all other concerns instantly fleeing her mind. After a satisfying interval, he spoke again: "I prefer, however, to leave that discussion for another time."

"Absolutely," she breathed, pulling him down to join her on the bed.

**oOo**

Scott stepped into McCoy's quarters, noting the rumpled state of the bed and smirking to himself. Who had McCoy blackmailed into joining him there? The place practically reeked of sex. Before he could say anything, a woman came out of the doctor's dressing area. The snide comment changed to a surprised gasp as he recognized Uhura. "I thought you were dead!"

"Never believe the death until you see the body." He went rigid as Kirk appeared, resting his chin on Uhura's shoulder as he misquoted one of the early Emperors. "Hello, Scotty." He grinned as he used the nickname the other universe's chief engineer had been given. "Time to pay off a certain debt." He clapped the other man on the shoulder. "Buck up. After this, you're off the hook."

"After this what?" The Scotsman asked through stiff lips. McCoy was trying to look inconspicuous, edging closer to his desk and the bottle on it. The bastard had set him up, and he was going to pay for that, one way or the other. But not now. Later. If Spock allowed any of them to have a later… "What is it ye want me to do?"

"We want to go back to the other universe," Kirk replied, removing his head from Uhura's shoulder, but not his arm from her waist. "We need to disappear, and it's the one place Starfleet and Spock would never think to look for us."

"And what makes ye think I can get ye there? That transporter accident was a fluke, a once in a lifetime chance that's long gone," Scott argued, but he sounded intrigued. The intricacies of the engineering problem Kirk's proposition posed momentarily outweighed his anger at having been tricked. "Besides, ye heard their Spock, the Third Law of Thermodynamics demands an exchange, not just a transfer."

"Is that your way of saying you can't do it?" Kirk's voice was challenging.

"It's my way o' saying their Spock didn't think it could be done," Scott shot back, stung by the implied aspersion on his abilities. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that McCoy had finally worked up the nerve to pick up the bottle, scowling as he realized it was empty. "At least, no wi'out actually exchanging exact duplicates. On the other hand," he continued, eyes going distant as he worked the problem out in his head, "all it might require would be an equal amount o' mass rather than an exact duplication." He moved to McCoy's desk, shoving the doctor out of the way as he sat down. "Computer, bring up program McCoy Alpha 7-3-2-9-5."

_"Working,"_ came the harsh, mechanized male voice of the computer.

"I'd be very careful if I were you." Uhura's voice was close behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder in irritation. She'd pulled her dagger from her boot and was holding it very close to his neck. "If you even think about contacting Spock or security, you'll be dead before they get here."

"Leave me to my work, lass." Scott returned his attention to the schematics that suddenly sprang up, and Uhura glared angrily at the back of his neck, not at all pleased at the contemptuous way he dismissed her. She looked around, but Kirk was picking his nails with his own dagger and McCoy was reaching under his bed for a fresh bottle, so she just grumbled under her breath in Swahili and stubbornly remained behind Scott.

She thought he'd forgotten them all as he barked incomprehensible orders to the computer, causing the schematics to change or disappear altogether, when he suddenly sat back in his chair, swatting irritably at her arm, and announced: "I can do it." He sounded pleased with himself.

Kirk, who had gone from picking his nails to almost dozing as he leaned against the wall, immediately stepped closer. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I've ever been about anythin'," Scott replied confidently. "What's more, I can do it wi'out too much reconfigurin' o' the transporters; it should only take a few hours. What I canna do," he added as Uhura and Kirk traded exultant grins, "is get ye back. Once yer there, yer on yer own."

"You leave that to us," Kirk replied confidently. "You just get us somewhere safe, and we'll take care of the rest. We'll be within transporter range of Sigma Iotia II by morning, and Spock's received orders to stop there." How he'd come across that particular tidbit was no mystery; Uhura simply looked smug when Scott glanced at her. "Just set it up. And remember, we'll be monitoring you. If you or McCoy try to double-cross us, you'll both be dead before Spock can blink."

"There's been a few rumors floating about, that ye had a way of makin' yer enemies disappear," Scott replied, his voice even but a bead of perspiration appearing suddenly on his upper lip. "A machine o' some kind that killed wi'out leavin' any trace o' itself, not even an energy signature."

Kirk just looked at him, allowing a slow smile to spread across his face. A smile that promised a world of pain, confirming nothing and everything. Scott was convinced he wasn't bluffing, and one look at McCoy's suddenly white features told him that the medical man believed he wasn't either. Neither Kirk nor Uhura seemed as desperate as the situation they were currently facing told Scott they should be, further confirming his suspicions. He licked his lips. "I'll get right on it."

"Remember, we'll be watching your every move," Uhura put in. Scott offered a curt nod, then exited the doctor's quarters as quickly as possible.


	13. Arrangements

Spock finished pulling on his clothes, contemplating the sleeping form of his newest paramour as he did so. She was beautiful, the part of him that appreciated such aesthetics noted, with her masses of dark hair tumbled in disarray and her dark lashes shielding her eyes, both in stark contrast to the creaminess of her skin. She was similar in coloring to his wife and in physical form to Christine Chapel, which made his unanticipated physical attraction to her almost…logical.

Marlena stirred and mumbled in her sleep, turning slightly on one side but not awakening. It was just as well; now that he had sealed his alliance with her, Spock needed to focus on his missions, the one set to him by Starfleet and the clandestine one he had undertaken for the alternate version of James Kirk. It was intriguing, to find that he was capable of forming a friendship with a human, not merely an alliance, at least in the other life he had gotten a glimpse of through his meld with the other Leonard McCoy.

He moved smoothly for the door, stopping as he heard Marlena call his name. He turned to look at her, deriving more than mere satisfaction from the sight of her only half-covered by the thin blankets on her bunk. "You may move your belongings back into the Captain's quarters," he told her. "I have already had mine placed there, and will be sure to inform my bodyguards of your new status."

She grimaced. "You mean my old status. Captain's Woman." She bit her lip and looked away. "I'm sorry, that sounded bitter and I didn't mean it to be."

"If things go as the other Kirk believes, then that phrase will no longer be anything more than a courtesy title." In two strides he had returned to the bed, folding his lean form into a crouch and looking steadily at her. "You will be able to advance without the need to curry sexual favors. Nor do I expect such favors from you unless they are offered voluntarily," he added. "Your assistance in our new cause does not require your presence in my bed, although I…appreciate it."

She held his gaze for a long moment, then smiled, reaching out and brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "I know, remember? The bond." The smile faded and she pulled her hand back. "Do you share such a bond with your wife, or with Christine?" Everyone knew the gossip, just as everyone knew that Christine had been pregnant with Spock's child when he had her transferred off the ship, presumably to Vulcan.

"My bond with T'Pring had never been strong, and my bond with Christine was temporary," was Spock's immediate, and candid, response. "Our only bond is through our child, whose existence I believe you have already surmised." She blushed and nodded, ashamed suddenly of listening to ship's gossip. Spock, however, remained impassive. "His name is Sovas, although Christine insists on calling him by his human middle name, David. My mother is frequently irritated with her for her refusal to adapt to the life she claimed to have wanted," he added. "But not to the point where she is willing to turn her over to my wife or her lover, Stonn. Although she has threatened to do so on numerous occasions, I am grateful that she has restrained herself, if only for Sovas' sake."

That was far more information than Marlena had expected or even deserved to share, and she said as much to Spock. Who shook his head. "I disagree. If we are to maintain our trust in one another, we must be willing to share. I must be willing to share," he corrected himself. "You have already shown yourself more than willing to do so."

Before she could respond, Spock's communicator gave forth an urgent series of beeps. Spock flipped it open. "Spock here."

The voice of the acting Chief Communication's Officer came through. "Captain Spock, we've arrived at Sigma Iotia II. There's been unauthorized transporter use in Transporter Room Three. I have sent security officers to secure the room, as per standing orders. I thought you should be informed immediately." Marlena didn't recognize the woman's Scandinavian-accented voice.

"Thank you, Lt. Klaas." Spock closed the communicator and looked at Marlena, who was scrambling into her uniform, tugging her halter top down over her breasts and hauling her skirt up over her hips. "I believe we should investigate."

"You think it's Jim and Uhura." Marlena reached for her boots, pulling them up hastily, then casting about for her undergarments, which Spock silently handed her. She slithered them up her legs, then yanked her skirt back down and jumped to her feet. "You said you didn't think they were dead." She combed her fingers through her hair before thrusting her dagger into her boot-top.

"And now it's time to confirm that theory." Spock headed for the door at a brisk walk while Marlena hesitated behind him. Damn, there just wasn't time to do anything with her hair; her brush was still boxed up somewhere. She hurried after him, her emotions in turmoil. Part of her hoped that Jim was still alive, while part of her, the cold, practical part, hoped this was just a false alarm. It would be easier for everyone if Jim Kirk wasn't around to put a wrench into their plans, tentative and unformed though they currently were.

And it would certainly be easier for her.


	14. Mardi Gras

**Thirty Minutes Earlier**

Kirk's communicator beeped softly, and he spared a glance at Uhura before flipping it open. "Scott?"

"Aye." The Chief Engineer didn't bother to lower his voice, which meant everything was going as planned and he was alone in Transporter Room Three. Or was preparing to betray them while Spock listened in. In the sudden rush of adrenalin, Kirk almost didn't care which; he'd never been so close to losing everything… or getting it all. "It's done. Ye can come down any time. The quicker the better," the Scotsman added, with a touch of malice. "There's only so long I can claim to be doin' maintenance."

"We'll be there soon. Kirk out." He snapped the communicator shut and turned back to Uhura with a smirk. "Well? How do I look?"

He was decked out in a rumpled maintenance uniform, his hair colored a dull gray. Uhura had made them both up to look like the dispirited drudges forced to do menial labor on Starfleet vessels, had even given Kirk a prison tattoo, a series of black lines joined in a semi-triangular pattern over his left eye to help obscure his features. "You look perfect," she said, meaning every word, and he puffed his chest out. She frowned. "Remember, we're supposed to be the worthless dregs of society," she cautioned him. "At least until we reach the Transporter room."

Kirk slumped, rolling his shoulders forward and hanging his head. "Like this?"

Uhura clapped her hands in delight as he shuffled forward a few steps in a perfect imitation of the spiritless drones that led mostly invisible lives on the ship. She should have known he'd made sure to notice them, no matter how far beneath him they were. You didn't rise to Captain as quickly as he had just because of an alien device.

"Like I said, perfect," she repeated sincerely. "How about me?" She gave him a sultry twirl, then moved smoothly into an imitation of his bent posture and shuffling gait. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, streaked with gray, her face scoured of any vestige of make-up. Her clothes were too large, giving her figure the illusion of gauntness, and she'd sacrificed her nails, snapping them off raggedly without a moment's hesitation. Attention to detail had always been her forte, and she knew it was the little things that could give them away. Even if they were only the halls for a few minutes, they couldn't risk being caught. Not this close to getting everything they wanted…

The trip to the transporter room seemed to last twice as long as it should have, due as much to their subdued gait as to the stress. There was a tense moment when a security guard, new to the ship and unfamiliar to either of them, cuffed Kirk across the shoulder for not getting out of the way quickly enough. Uhura could see the rage swelling on his face, but he managed to stifle it as the guard swaggered down the hall, unaware how close he had come to death.

The Tantalus Field was hidden among the cleaning supplies Kirk pushed on a gravity sled, one that listed alarmingly to one side but was steadier and better maintained than it appeared. Scott wasn't the only genius with machines, Uhura thought smugly as she shuffled behind Kirk.

At last the doors were opening before them; Uhura raised her head just enough to dart a quick glance around the room. As expected, only Scott and McCoy were there. She allowed herself a quick sigh of relief, straightening and indulging in a languorous stretch as the doors whooshed shut behind them. Kirk quickly pulled the alien machinery, hidden in a simple duffle bag, out of the maintenance equipment. After a quick check to make sure all the parts were there, he walked over to the console. "Are you sure this will work?"

"Absolutely." Scott sounded confident, and looked it, too. McCoy, on the other hand, looked like a nervous wreck, standing in a corner, arms clutched tightly across his chest, skin pale and waxy. He wasn't holding up here, on his home ground, nearly as well as he had on the duplicate _Enterprise_ ; Uhura's instincts not to trust him as an ally appeared to have been well founded. No matter; it would soon be over.

"And everything is programmed in?" Kirk still sounded suspicious.

"Aye." Scott stared at Kirk. "And ye have the information ye promised me?"

Kirk nodded. "Once we're gone, you'll never have to worry about that piece of information ever getting into the wrong hands. There are no copies, only the original data." He held up a disk. "It's all right here" Scott reached for it, but Kirk snatched his hand back. "Ah-ah, not yet," he cautioned. "Not until everything else has been taken care of."

Scott nodded, never taking his eyes off the disk Kirk continued to hold up near his face. Uhura would have given her eye-teeth to find out what information it contained, but all Kirk would tell her was that it was enough to not only destroy Scott's career but almost certainly get him killed as well. And soon, it would all be moot. One day, she'd get Kirk to tell her all about it, but not today. There was too much to worry about as it was.

"So." Kirk returned his attention to the transporter controls. "It's all preset, is it? Just the touch of a lever and we're gone?"

"Aye, and no need for us to stay while ye do it, so we can be well away before ye go." At that, McCoy looked up hopefully and took a sideways step toward the door. Kirk stopped him with a glare before looking back at Scott, nodding for the engineer to continue. "Just press this, slide this," he mimicked the movements over the appropriate controls, "wait 30 seconds, then onto the pads and into th' other universe ye go."

"No, into the other universe _you_ go." Scott gaped as Kirk and Uhura both produced phasers and trained them on the other two. Uhura kicked the gravity sled over, and the contents tumbled out, revealing the bodies of two women, naked and hairless, hidden beneath the cleaning supplies. Scott cursed while McCoy let out a strangled moan as he realized exactly what was happening. "So, unregistered Deltan slaves, eh, Scott? You know there are penalties for illicit personnel on a starship." Kirk nudged the nearest body with one foot, then deliberately lowered his phaser and vaporized the inert form. Without changing expression, he pivoted and destroyed the second body.

"Now we've got organic residue to explain your disappearance," Uhura put in, herding McCoy toward the transporter. "Because right now, Spock needs to think that we're gone for good and that our accomplices were killed to make sure they didn't give anything away."

"So you're going to kill us?" McCoy blurted. "Why? Spock won't chase after you into the other universe, you know that!"

"Since we're not going there, even if he did it wouldn't do him any good." Kirk shoved the phaser against Scott's chest, forcing him backward, toward the transporter, as well. "You're going instead. To whatever nice, safe haven you picked for us."

Scott was as white as McCoy, who was shaking so badly his teeth were chattering. "Ye can't do this!" he protested, but Kirk just grinned and nodded at Uhura.

Just as she reached for the transporter controls, McCoy tried to run. Before he got more than a few steps, Uhura shot him. He crumpled to the ground, still breathing. "Set on stun," she explained unnecessarily to Scott, who remained frozen in place. "You're going whether you're awake or not." She gestured at McCoy's unconscious form, slumped in a messy pile on the step leading up to the transporter pad. "Pick him up," she said curtly.

"You heard the lady," Kirk drawled, stepping just far enough back to remain out of Uhura's phaser path. "Get him up there with you. You're going on a little trip." As Scott reluctantly moved to do as he was told, Kirk continued: "If you've told the truth, you're about to start a new life. And if not, if you were planning to betray us…" He shrugged. "Then this is your chance to get away from it all. Permanently."

"It's done!" Scott, half-supporting McCoy, paled further as Uhura spoke. "Thirty seconds, right?" He tried to protest, and she suspected from the panic in his eyes that he had, indeed, planned to betray them. But instead of pleading or bargaining, he only asked: "Then where the hell are ye goin'?"

"You let us worry about that," Kirk replied with a wink. The transporter activated, and Scott and McCoy disappeared in a flash of golden sparkles.

Before Kirk could do more than turn to face Uhura, the doors whooshed open.


	15. Places To Go, People To Do

Kirk and Uhura whirled to face the door, phasers at the ready, relaxing only when Lt. Kyle slunk into the room. Uhura tossed her head. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, well, I had to make sure I wasn't seen; you sure you took care of the surveillance scanners?" Kyle sounded nervous, but not overly so, and his hands were steady as he reached for the transporter controls.

"All taken care of, not a thing for you to worry about," Uhura assured him. "And the codes for the credit transfer are right here." She pulled a data wafer from her bodice and dangled it before Kyle's greedy eyes. "You just make sure to wipe the transporter records after we leave, and I'll leave this," she waved the wafer before Kyle's face, "on the pad so you can grab it."

"Remember," Kirk chimed in, " you'll only have a few seconds after we leave to get out. If Spock catches you in here," a slow grin spread across the erstwhile captain's face, and he made a slashing motion across his neck. "Be sure to be gone before he arrives. Which I'm sure he'll do soon."

"Right, let's get this over with." Kyle moved in front of the transporter controls, his movements quick and assured.

"And remember this, too," Kirk added, catching the other man's gaze with his own. "If you betray us, you'd better hope we're killed before we can implicate you. Because we will. If we go down, you go with us."

Kyle paled slightly, but his gaze remained steady. "Right, got it. And you remember this; if that data wafer doesn't have the credits I was promised, I will make sure Spock finds out through an anonymous source exactly what happened to you two."

Kirk slapped Kyle on the back with a bark of laughter. "Good. So we both understand each other."

Uhura had moved to the transporter pad, laying the wafer on the edge as promised and watching impatiently as Kirk strolled over to join her, hefting the duffel bag containing the Tantalus Field-and a substantial amount of hard cash and untraceable credit wafers-in one hand.

"One last thing." The two fugitives stared at Kyle. He jerked his head at Uhura. "You promised. It's part of the deal."

After only a moment's hesitation, Uhura nodded and stepped lithely off the transporter pad. "This will only take a second," she said, while Kirk scowled and shifted his feet impatiently.

Kyle licked his lips as Uhura slinked her way toward him; even in her oversized rags and without makeup, with her hair pulled back and grime deliberately smeared across her features, she was still the sexiest damn woman he'd ever seen. He darted a quick glance at Kirk, still scowling but remaining in place on the transporter pad, then pulled Uhura into his arms for an impassioned embrace. Kirk's scowl deepened, but he held his tongue; Uhura had told him this might happen, and this one time he was going to have to sit and watch while another man pawed at his Woman. If this insured their escape, he could put up with it. This time, and this time only.

Uhura allowed Kyle free reign over her body, not stopping his hands from roaming while she pressed herself against him and returned the kiss with as much passion as she could fake. She knew what he really wanted, but there was no way she was giving him that, not in the time-frame allowed and definitely not in front of Kirk.

After a minute she pulled gently away, running her fingers across Kyle's features and smiling, just the slightest bit. He was flushed and breathing heavily, and as she turned to go he grabbed her wrist and yanked her coverall open, exposing her breasts. She allowed him the final liberty of sucking greedily first at one nipple, then the other, then shoved him away and closed her top. "That's going to have to be enough, Lieutenant," she said. "Now do your part and get us the hell out of here." She backed toward the transporter, never removing her gaze from Kyle's panting form.

His scowl now matched the one Kirk was still sporting, but he nodded curtly and manipulated the controls with practiced efficiency. With a jerk, he pulled the last lever. "Ten seconds and you're gone, with the memory wiped. It'll show what Scott did and nothing after that."

"With the money we've given you, you can buy a couple of Deltan slaves; they should be able to help you out where I couldn't," Uhura called as he stepped back from the controls. She blew him a kiss; it was the last image he had of her, and one he would treasure the rest of his life.

Even before the sparkle of the transporter effect faded, Kyle was in motion, scooping up the data wafer and heading for the doors. He poked his head out cautiously; seeing no one, he dashed out of the room and ducked down the next corridor. Now would be the hard part; the waiting.


	16. Gambling Man

**The Present**

Spock's stride quickened as he neared Transporter Room 3. Marlena and a brace of his personal guards followed, racing to keep up. Why was it, Marlena found herself wondering, Vulcans seemed to move so much faster than humans, without giving the appearance of doing so?

Just before reaching their destination, however, they came upon a bracket of security guards confronting a blonde lieutenant in transporter fatigues Moreau didn't immediately recognize until she heard the British accents. "I told you, Mr. Scott sent me away, I wasn't derelict, you can't report me that way!" Kyle caught sight of Spock's party and raised his voice in appeal. "Captain, please, I didn't abandon my post, I swear! Mr. Scott told me to leave-" His voice ended in a cry of pain as one of the guards backhanded him.

Spock raised a hand, and the two guards sullenly stepped away from their prisoner. "Explain yourself."

When Kyle opened his mouth, Spock cut him off. "Not you. Them."

The two guards exchanged uneasy glances, then returned their attention to Spock. "Sir, we caught this man away from his duty post," the taller of the two said. "He claims Mr. Scott told him to leave, but when we checked, there was no one in Transporter Room 3." He glared at Kyle. "We were about to contact his immediate superior for further information." For permission to punish him, he meant. "He admits he was gone for more than half an hour!"

Spock appraised them coolly, then dismissed the two guards with a jerk of his head. He beckoned Kyle closer. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Moreau caught herself wondering why he was wasting time on this man, until she realized what the guard had reported; there was no one in Transporter Room 3. That meant that whatever actions Kirk had planned, if indeed he was involved, had already taken place.

Kyle was sweating lightly, but no more than anyone would under the circumstances. "Mr. Scott came into the room and ordered me to leave. He said he was performing a maintenance check, that it was a surprise evaluation of how I was keeping my duty station. I had no reason to doubt him, but when I questioned whether my supervisor should be advised, he told me he'd already taken care of that and practically shoved me out the door." He shrugged. "So I got something to eat and was on my way back when Johnson and Ryan showed up, accusing me of dereliction of duty."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "And you found nothing suspicious about this request?"

Kyle smirked. "Of course I did, sir, but Mr. Scott is my superior, the head of my department. I just thought he and Dr. McCoy-"

"McCoy was with him?" Spock's voice sharpened.

"Yes sir, looking nervous," Kyle confirmed.

"And you did not find this…unusual?" Spock's voice was an ominous growl, barely heard.

Kyle paled. "No, sir," he stammered. "I mean, yes sir, I found it unusual, but I just assumed they had a business transaction so I left them to it." His expression became defensive. "It doesn't happen a lot, but it does happen. Usually my superior knows about it," he added, obviously hoping to deflect attention upwards.

Spock and Marlena traded looks, ignoring Kyle's babbling. "That's the other two members of the landing party," Moreau murmured. It couldn't be coincidence.

"Are you sure there was no one else with them?" Spock snapped, returning his attention to Kyle.

The other man took a step back before visibly stopping himself. He'd never seen Spock so furious. Now was the dangerous part; if Spock found his story unsatisfactory, he would force a mind meld and it would all be over. Oh well… He shook his head, then hesitated. "No one was with them, but I did pass a couple of maintenance workers pushing a loaded grav cart this way as I was leaving." He shrugged. "Not that it's important…"

"On the contrary, Mr. Kyle, your information could be quite important." Spock didn't elaborate further, but he seemed inclined to accept the other man's story at face value. And why shouldn't he? Kyle had never been known as a particular ally of either Kirk or Uhura. Or Scott or McCoy, for that matter. "You will come with us. I require your expert opinion on what happened in there while you were away."

"Yes, sir."

Kyle couldn't believe his luck. Getting accosted by those two jarheads had been exactly what he needed to help convince Spock of the truth of his story. Now, all he had to do was honestly answer what the transporter logs would read, information he expected Spock to have someone else independently confirm. Let him; the extra transport to the planet's surface was erased.

He'd used his time to double-check the credit transfer, and it was everything Uhura had promised. He was now rich enough to make his life on board this ship even more comfortable than it already was, or he could put it away toward an early retirement with the rest of his share of the ship's booty.

All he had to do now was tell Spock the truth, then wait to see if his gamble would pay off. He'd never been much of a risk taker, but this had been too good an opportunity to let pass.

Kyle obediently entered the transporter room, schooling his expression to conceal his hope, but allowing his trepidation to show. Spock would expect it, and so would the former captain's former Woman, who was watching him even more carefully than Spock or his body guards.

Trying to ignore all the eyes upon him, the Transporter Chief quickly crossed over to the controls and examined them as carefully as he would if he didn't know to what use they'd been recently put. He heard the whirr of a tricorder operating, although he wasn't sure what the operator-Moreau, he noted, darting a furtive look around-was hoping to find.

She let out a sharp cry, startling him into turning and staring at her. She ignored him as she stared at Spock, an expression of horror on her face. "Organic residue, two humanoids. Two people were killed in here!"

Kyle restrained the smirk he felt tugging at the corners of his lips. So that's what really happened to Scott and McCoy; the transport to the other universe had never actually sent anyone anywhere. Probably just some equipment or something rigged to give off biological readings. But he turned back to his work with a shrug, as if to say it was none of his business what happened when he wasn't around to witness it. "The transporter was used recently," he confirmed. "Two people sent to coordinates I don't quite understand." That much was certainly true. He stepped aside as Captain Spock approached, pointed out the anomalous readings. "There, sir, see it?"

"Indeed," was Spock's only comment. He studied the readings for a moment, then returned his attention to Kyle. "You are dismissed. Inform your supervisor that Transporter Room 3 has been temporarily shut down while I investigate."

"Aye, sir." Kyle was torn between relief at being out of the line of fire and disappointment that he wasn't to be privy to the outcome of that investigation. He almost volunteered to help, but caught himself and simply left the room after slamming his fist against his chest in a salute. Moreau looked to be bursting with questions, but if she had something to say she was waiting until he left to voice them. Oh well. Sometimes curiosity wasn't meant to be satisfied, Kyle reflected as the doors whooshed shut behind him.

Spock's guards, standing on either side of the doors, eyed him suspiciously, but let him go without a word. He waited until he was well out of sight before allowing a satisfied smile to cross his face. The worst part was over; now to figure out the best way to hide his new wealth.


	17. End Game

Gone. Kirk and Uhura were gone, McCoy and Scott were dead, and the Tantalus Field was gone as well. Not that Spock would have used it as ruthlessly as Kirk ever had, but he would have found it necessary to employ it if he was to effect any kind of long-term changes in the way the Empire was run. Moreau was still torn as to whether she was relieved or disappointed that Kirk had escaped, but she bitterly regretted the loss of the Tantalus Field, no ambiguity about it. "This is my fault. I should have taken it with me, not left it alone."

Spock turned to face her. "The blame is as much mine as it is yours, Marlena." She still felt a delicious shiver whenever he said her name. "I underestimated Kirk and his influence, and now he is out of our reach. Although I could easily duplicate Mr. Scott's work and open another transporter gateway to that other universe, I will not do so."

"Why not?" Moreau demanded, moving a step closer. "We need the Tantalus Field, you know we do!"

"A new order founded on the use of additional violence would quickly degenerate into the old order, do you not agree?" Moreau dropped her eyes, unable to refute Spock's words. "It will be difficult, but I believe the duplicate Captain Kirk would prefer we made the attempt with as little blood shed as possible."

"I suppose you're right," Moreau muttered, but privately she wondered how feasible a strategy that would prove to be. She was committed, both to Spock and to that other Kirk's challenge to change, but that didn't mean she wanted to take foolish chances.

"I understand your hesitation," Spock said, as if reading her mind. Or merely her body language, the expression on her face, the doubt in her eyes. "However, I believe we can accomplish this mission if we work together." He held his hand out to her, and she took it, erasing all doubt from her mind. If Spock said they could do it, she believed him.

**Epilogue**

The culture was primitive, but of a sufficient technological level that Uhura was confident she could use it to do what needed to be done. Once the Tantalus Field was in working order, the two of them could quietly take over this backwater, make it over into their own private little Empire. The _Enterprise_ had come and gone, Spock apparently dismissing the Iotians as a negligible threat, in spite of their highly imitative culture. The natural resources of the planet weren't worth plundering, the mystery of the lost starship I.S.S. _Horizon_ had been solved and avenged with the deaths of the planet's military leadership, and the Empire had decided to leave the world in isolation. For now.

Uhura allowed a satisfied smile to cross her face. Patching into the ship's communications had been child's play, only slightly complicated by the need for secrecy. Since she was capable of covering her electronic tracks in her sleep, even that had proven to be no problem.

Her smile broadened as she felt warm hands slide across her shoulders, and allowed herself to be pulled back against Kirk's hard chest. "So," he breathed into her ear. "The government is in disarray, the _Enterprise_ and that traitorous Vulcan are gone, the Tantalus Field is working…" He kissed the side of her neck, and she shivered with pleasure, pulling his hands down until they cupped her breasts. "Whatever shall we do next?"

Things were going to be very interesting, very interesting indeed. By the time Starfleet returned, if it ever did, they would find a very different world than the one Spock had left. Very different indeed. As for Spock, well, if they ever crossed paths again, the Tantalus Field would be put to good use. They hadn't managed to get it up and running until well after the _Enterprise_ was out of range, or else the ship would suddenly have found itself without a Captain as well as a Chief Medical Office and Chief Engineer.

Uhura slid around until she was facing Kirk, still warm in his embrace. "What should we do next? That's easy." She reached up and stroked his face, darting closer for a quick kiss. "Try to take over the world, of course."

They laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little mirror!verse jaunt!


End file.
